


All this shit is even weirder

by Kagetsukai



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Graphic Description, MGiT, Minor Character Death, Modern Girl in Thedas, Other, Pining, Sarcasm, Slow Burn, Vigorous Disagreements, mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2018-10-24 08:06:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10737588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kagetsukai/pseuds/Kagetsukai
Summary: Hannah wakes up in a foreign world she recognizes a little too well and she freaks out. Something horrible has happened to her: she was beaten within an inch of her life and left on the side of a road. If it hadn't been for the kindness of Ostwick mages that fixed her up and brought her to Haven, she probably would have been dead.That being said, she is familiar with Dragon Age games and has read plenty of fanfiction on the topic. She is well aware what the concept of MGIT is and wants nothing to do with it. However, she does want to know how the hell she got transported into Thedas before the explosion at the Conclave - and existence of Fade rifts - and how the hell was she going to get out?Note: Beware of the ever-changing tags for triggers and relationship updates.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note that Hannah has a potty-mouth that would make some sailors blush. It's her way of coping with stress and deflecting attention, of course, and it may or may not get worse as the chapters progress. If that's not your cup of tea, please be advised of the explicit language tag. I promise it will occasionally bring boundless joy and laughter.

Hannah had died, gone to hell, and was currently being dipped in the lake of fire, left side first.

Or at least that’s how she felt, if she were to go by the way her whole body screamed in agony. The brightest spots of pain focused around her abdomen, her chest and her left hip. What happened? Where was she? She could hear faint murmurs all around her, but at the moment her eyes were refusing cooperation and she couldn’t see what was going on. It all just _hurt_. She may have made a sound of sorts, because the voices came closer and suddenly she was falling into the abyss.

 

 

The darkness flickered away at the edge of her sight. There was a dim light all around Hannah and she was suddenly aware of a blonde head of hair leaning over her. The woman was rather cute, even if really blurry.

“Don’t move, we’re still trying to heal you.”

Hannah tried to say something, ask a question, but the blonde only shook her head.

“Just relax and I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry, I’ve done this before.” The woman leaned over again and Hannah saw a faint blue light shining at the woman’s hand. Flashlight?

She had more questions, but the darkness claimed her instead.

 

 

“We can’t take her with us, she’s sustained too much physical damage and it will take a while for her to heal.”

The voice was male and authoritative, inviting no argument. Hannah could tell he was used to getting his way.

“Also, the path is harsh. No one will want to carry her up a mountain.”

“I am certain she is one the nobles. Look at her lovely hair! Maybe she got ambushed on the way to Haven?”

“Evelyn, that’s nonsense,” the male kept arguing. “All nobles travel with extensive retinue and this one was alone in the middle of the forest! Stop being such a bleeding heart. We’re leaving her with the villagers. She’ll be fine there.”

Hannah felt she recognized the names in the conversation, and really wanted to listen to the rest of it, but she was once again drifting off to dreamless sleep.

 

 

The smell hit her first: it was a metallic tang of blood mixed with plethora of herbal scents that made her think of her grandma’s garden. The air was somewhat stuffy, which confused Hannah to no end. She has had a lot of experience with hospitals and this wasn’t what hospitals smelled like. Her brain had had quickly come to a conclusion something serious had happened so the fact it all felt so cozy confused her. She slowly peeled her eyelids and looked up at what seemed to be a wooden ceiling. Of a cabin.

What?

She shifted her head side to side in an effort to get a better idea of her location and her confusion increased even more. It seemed she was in some sort of a hut, a fairly well-maintained one, but it was definitely not a hospital. There was a weird fireplace on the opposite wall and a blonde woman sat in front of it. She looked to be stirring a pot that sat on the fire.

What the fuck was happening?

Hannah tried to sit up on the bed and failed miserably. At least the ugly blanket that covered her body seemed warm and soft enough, and didn’t shift with her movement. The blonde woman did get alerted to her being awake, though.

“You’re up!” she exclaimed. “Thank the Maker. You’ve slept for almost four days now and I wasn’t sure if we’d ever wake you.”

 _Thank the Maker_? Hannah was clearly still too hazy from whatever drugs she had been given because this person was using a very familiar vernacular from Dragon Age video games. Maybe she was having an auditory hallucination episode? This woman did just say Hannah had been out for four days. She wondered what had happened to her.

She opened her mouth to speak, but a dry croak exited her mouth instead and a fitful cough followed.

“Oh no! Let me get you water.”

Blissfully, the blonde was swift and brought a mug to Hannah’s mouth almost immediately. She helped hold the damned thing so the cool liquid could slowly slide down the throat and soothe the coughing. Hannah swallowed several times and felt better about life at once. She hummed a little to try out her voice and found it functional.

“Where am I?” Well, it didn’t exactly _sound_ like her voice, but at least she could communicate.

“You’re in the infirmary in Haven. Our convoy picked you up in the middle of a forest on our way to the Conclave. Were you going to the Conclave as well?”

Hannah just stared at the blonde woman, dumbfounded. This wasn’t happening, was it? Her brain, still fuzzy from prolonged unconsciousness, was dreaming it all up, it had to. She had spent the better part of last year completely immersed in the world of Dragon Age and its fanfiction. Had her brain snapped and now was providing her with alternative reality?

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice sounding stronger yet still trembling around the edges.

“My name is Evelyn Trevelyan,” she said and paused a second, as if uncertain. “I’m a mage from the Ostwick Circle. I’m the one who healed the majority of your injuries.”

Yes, Hannah was definitely hallucinating. Had the obsession with Dragon Age Inquisition driven her to insanity? She lifted her hands to look at the extent of her injuries, but all she could see was a plain tunic; one that looked to be straight out of the video game. There were no bandages she could see and this was definitely not a hospital bed.

“Please, calm down. You’re breathing erratically,” said Evelyn and tried to push Hannah back onto the pillow.

She didn’t even notice she had tried to get up.

“Get me the fuck away from here. This is not happening, this is all in my head, and you are a figment of my imagination.”

“I don’t think so,” Evelyn quipped. “Please lay down. You are still too weak to be moving this much.”

“You need to tell me immediately how you found me and where. What happened to me?” Hannah demanded.

Evelyn huffed again.

“We found you in the middle of a forest, half-frozen and beaten almost to death. It looked like someone ambushed you, stole all of your things, and left you to die. We were hoping you’d give us more information so we could alert the Divine’s militia.”

That made absolutely no sense. Hannah lived in a large city and she had not been planning on going to any forests at any time. Even if she couldn’t remember the attack due to head trauma, she should have been able to remember getting there. There was also the whole problem of her mind being convinced she was in Thedas, out of all places.

“I don’t remember how I got to a forest. I live in a city. As far as I know, I never left that city.”

Evelyn smiled at her, the kind of a smile that didn’t reach all the way to the eyes and spoke of distrust.

“Well, either way you can’t go anywhere right now, especially in your weakened state. The Conclave is starting tomorrow and only the vetted people can come. Since we don’t know who you are, you will have to stay here.” She nodded, as if to herself. “Adan will be here to check on you. He’s a nice guy, if a little grumpy.”

In a bit of a daze, Hannah reached over to her left side and pinched herself as hard as she could. She must have grabbed a handful of a tender wound because the pain that rocked through her had her gasping for more air and seizing in agony. A realization quickly bloomed in her mind and settled in as a terrifying fact.

“This isn’t happening,” she whispered to herself. “This isn’t fucking happening! What the actual fuck???”

Hannah was yelling now, her mind both foggy and clear at the same time. This was suddenly all too real: she had been transported to Thedas against her will. She was living the dreaded ‘modern girl in Thedas’ trope and she was _not_ okay with it. She had read several stories that pertained to that topic and none of them appealed to her. Absolutely none.

“Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck, FUCK!”

“I think you’ve had enough of excitement for today,” Evelyn spoke somewhere to the side and suddenly Hannah’s vision went dark.

 

 

The light that woke her up was blinding and it took Hannah several moments to find her bearings. She squinted in annoyance and grunted to herself. She was in her bed again and she just had the weirdest dream of all time. She reached above her head and stretched lazily.

Her left side convulsed in pain and a loud whimper escaped her lips.

“Don’t do that, you infuriating woman!” a male voice scolded her from somewhere in the room. “That wound just closed and you don’t want to jostle it open.”

No.

It was a dream. She was still dreaming about Thedas and how rich and immersive that world was, and how much she loved learning about it. She was not actually in it. There was no way. It was not physically possible to do that. Thedas was imaginary and how could one even be transported there? Science was pretty firm on that front. Thedas. Did not. Exist.

“Here, I have some broth for you, if you feel like eating.”

Hannah opened her eyes again and this time they focused properly on her surroundings. She was still in that wooden hut. There were several other beds here but she was the only occupant at the moment. The man leaning over the closest nightstand had a rather impressive beard and wore a robe that had some sort of embroidered insignia. He reminded her of the Catholic priests of her childhood and she chuckled to herself.

“Thank you,” she told him and reached for the bowl. He watched her, probably making sure she was strong enough to hold the dish. Thankfully nothing disastrous happened. As soon as the first spoonful touched her lips, though, she descended upon the broth like a person starved. Perhaps she was, too.

“I’m glad to see you have an appetite,” the man noted. “The Ostwick mages were rather insistent that I keep you alive and healthy. They didn’t seem to care that I’m an alchemist, not a nurse.”

The comment made Hannah stop in her tracks. She stared at the man until he frowned and turned to look at something on the wall. The intense eye-contact had clearly unnerved him.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

He looked back at her, hesitated, “Adan. Yours?”

“Hannah,” she replied automatically.

The now-familiar taste of panic rose in her again, mixed with the flavor of broth she just had. This wouldn’t do. She had to know for certain.

“Adan, could you be a peach and help me to the door?”

His frown deepened. “If you’re thinking of running, don’t. You won’t get far in the mountains while wearing not much more than a tunic.”

“I just want to see something, alright?” she pleaded. She had already put away her dish and thrown off the blanket, revealing the rest of the tunic and a pair of plain pants.

Adan grunted in annoyance.

“Fine! But you’re going back to bed once you have a peek outside, alright?”

“That’s all I want.” She tried to pacify him

Mobility was steadily returning to her body, though she still needed Adan’s help once she tried to stand up. There was something wrong with her lower back and hips, something that severely limited Hannah’s movement, but that was a problem for a later time. Slowly, step by step, she walked to the door while propped on Adan’s shoulder. She reached for the handle, pressed on it and swung the whole thing open.

The world outside was both beautiful and frigid. She had lived in the mountains for a large portion of her life and the scenery felt familiar, the way all such views did. The ground was covered with snow and the surrounding peaks suggested a much higher elevation than what Hannah was used to. She swept her gaze, looking intently, until she found it.

The Temple of Sacred Ashes.

She stared at the dark shape against the bright, sunny sky, her mouth hanging completely open. The cold air whipped at her thin clothing mercilessly, but she barely paid it any mind. This was clearly Thedas. This was clearly Haven. The sensations, the sights were real and it made panic rise inside of her even more. Something was off, though.

“Did the Conclave happen yet? When does it start?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“At the midday bell, which rang right before you woke up.”

Hannah’s eyes widened and she glued her eyes to the dark shape of the building.

As if on command, a great ball of energy shot out of the Temple and shattered it to tiny pieces. An enormous sonic boom clapped through the air and made Hannah’s ears pop painfully. The sky _actually tore open_ , briefly showing the sickly green tint of what had to be the Fade. The clouds swirled once, twice, and continued moving as the sudden wind whipped at her face. She had seen the explosion before, in the game, but nothing prepared her for the unadulterated fear that forced itself through her blood at the sight. This was real. She felt it deeply in her own bones. Somehow she knew there was no turning back. Inquisition’s clock started _now_.

“Motherfucking son of a bitch,” she swore with vehemence.

Next to her, Adan simply lost all feeling in his legs and she tumbled to the floor with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I am a slow writer and this might take me a while to complete. I apologize in advance. That being said, I have some really fun things planned and I really hope to get to them quickly. I promise a lot of shenanigans, if nothing more.
> 
> Kudos and comments are much appreciated and I hang out on [Tumblr](kagetsukai.tumblr.com) a lot.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah might have accepted her new reality, but she isn't okay with how it is going so far. Blood, guts, and gore surround her everywhere and she definitely wishes she could go back to Earth. A familiar face shows up at the healer's tent and suddenly things become much more personal.

It had been three days since the explosion at the Conclave and Hannah could barely remember what her life had been like before. All she knew was the constant throbbing pain in her left hip and leg, and the semi-constant influx of wounded soldiers that were delivered to the healer’s tent.

Those first few moments after the Temple was destroyed she had contemplated just surrendering to death, in whichever form it chose to come. She had a vague recollection of laying in a heap on Adan’s doorstep, heaving the broth and bile out of her mostly empty stomach and onto the grass. She might have passed out again as well, though she couldn't exactly remember that. 

Then the first wounded soldiers got brought in, Hannah finally understood the scope of suffering the Breach was causing the people of Haven. She sat in her bed, mesmerised and horrified, watching as Adan tried his best to apply his limited magic and extensive potions knowledge to heal these dying people. The sights and sounds of suffering soon became too much to bear and Hannah had fled the hut in a panic.

She had tried wandering the trembling village for maybe an hour, hobbling along on a stick and not sure what she was looking to find, when she had stumbled across a house that had to be the baker’s place. She stood there, transfixed, as the divine scent of freshly-baked bread assaulted her nose like a punch.

“What do you want?”

Hannah shifted her head a little and stared at an older woman that stood in the doorway. She looked stern and unyielding, a wall of impenetrable emotions.

“I’m sorry if I disturbed you. I had to leave Adan’s place. He’s taking care of so many wounded soldiers he no longer has space for people like me, who aren’t actively bleeding out.”

She was trying for levity, but her voice was too tired to sound anything but heart-broken. Hannah had a realization, that even though she barely considered these people real, she actually cared about their suffering. She wasn’t completely heartless, after all. 

Apparently, the same thing could be said about the baker. Or was is the baker’s wife? The woman’s expression softened an inch and she beckoned Hannah closer.

“I have a fair amount of yesterday’s bread. No use keeping it around when the world is about to end. Take it to Adan’s. He will need all the strength he has to help this Maker-forsaken place.”

Before she could say anything to the contrary, Hannah found herself with a burlap sack that held something warm and fragrant; these loaves definitely weren’t a day old. She looked the woman in the eyes and she saw them rimmed with red and tinged with despair.

“My husband volunteered to go help the fight,” she whispered. “If you see him at Adan’s, please take care of him? He’s the only thing I have left in this world.”

Hannah nodded and, without looking back, she removed herself from the situation.

How was she to know what any given man did before they donned armor and picked up a sword? Did he have the word ‘baker’ tattooed on his forehead to make him easier to identify? She felt anger, though she couldn’t explain the emotion. Why did she care about someone who was most likely a figment of her strange imagination anyway?

She looked at the bag in her hand and inhaled the delightful scent of freshly-baked bread. While this might be some alternate reality, some time-space dimension she fell through, or whatever other bullshit the universe chose to throw at her, she would have to commit to _something_ : either wither and die, or get her shit together and make the most of what she had available. With a brief nod to herself, she decided that her momma didn’t raise a quitter.

Hannah reached into the bag and broke off a handsome piece of bread and stuffed it in her mouth. It tasted delicious and reminded her of childhood, a thought she swiftly shoved back down the hole it came from. As she devoured the delightful dough, she moved towards Adan’s hut with more purpose in her hobbled step. When she entered it, the smell that greeted her almost made her retch again, though, and she stopped in the doorway. Adan was sitting on a chair in the corner, covered in viscera and clearly exhausted, while all five beds were occupied by bodies covered in copious amounts of blood. She could tell not all of the soldiers had survived.

“The baker sent some bread for sustenance,” she said inanely.

Adan didn’t even acknowledge her presence, just reached into his pocket, pulled out two different potions and downed them without a twitch.

“That’s later. I need to find someone to help carry the bodies. I’m also supposed to help with some prisoner they’re keeping at the Chantry.”

“I’ll help here,” Hannah cut in without preamble. “I’m not fully recovered yet and I don’t have experience with medicine, but I can be your assistant or do simple tasks. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He looked at her then, straight into her eyes and into her soul it seemed. Perhaps he liked what he saw there, because the briefest of smiles graced his tired mouth and he nodded in agreement.

“I still need more assistance than just your injured ass. We need any spare people left in the village to help remove the dead and deposit them with the Chantry. Start with the tavern; Flissa will know who will be best-suited. Then we need to change the sheets on these beds and prepare for more soldiers to arrive. I hope you know how to boil bandages.”

Hannah gave Adan a look.

“I don’t, but I’m sure Flissa can help. I’ll be right back.”

 

That’s how Hannah spent her first three days in Thedas, while the Breach spilled every known nightmare into the world. 

The baker did not survive the fray on the mountain, though he did valiantly fight for his life. Unfortunately, his gut wound was too much for Adan’s limited resources and the man died of suspected sepsis. It pained Hannah to see him die like that, esp. after his wife showed her such kindness, but there really wasn’t anything else she could do. Every so often she would wish she had gone to a medical school, but that was a mild regret twenty years too late. Instead, she applied herself to the job she had: to keep things clean, hold Adan’s various instruments, and run to the storage for more healing potions. Thankfully, nobody said anything when she would have to empty her stomach after a particularly gruesome case.

At some point Lady Montilyet became involved in relief efforts and she assigned a tiny contingent of soldiers to erect a tent just outside Haven’s door. Adan shifted his operation there at once. It was for the better, too, since many villagers would descend upon wounded soldiers being brought in and wail in despair over their dying loved ones.

In the chaos of war, and impending apocalypse, Hannah found herself walking through it all in a haze of pain and weird detachment. Her body hurt, but she kept moving, hoping that the old adage of ‘movement is the best healer’ would become truth. She still didn’t quite believe this was her new reality, but she had made a conscious decision to deal with it more thoroughly once she wasn’t covered in bodily fluids. 

That part of her new situation bothered Hannah the most. She had always hated hospitals growing up, but then recent circumstances intensified her feelings to a fierce loathing. Having to spend all of her time around dead or dying people brought on thoughts she firmly, and consistently, pushed away. At least she didn’t have to deal with the clinical antiseptic smell she associated with modern medicine. 

When the third day of the Breach rolled around, Hannah was at her wits’ end and ready to snap. Even with the knowledge that the onslaught would end soon, she was ready to pick up a sword and go fight the demons herself, just in case her presence would somehow improve their chances. 

She kept hearing murmurs of the prisoner that may or may not have caused the explosion, but she summarily ignored it all. Gossiping with the recovering soldiers was a pleasant part of her days, but she was afraid that if the topic came up, she’d say something indicating prior knowledge and she’d be put in a prison cell. ‘Cold and moist’ was not something she wanted to experience. Instead, Hannah would check on everybody’s bandages and exchange raunchy jokes as a way of lightening the mood; her foul mouth seemed quite at home with these people.

Just as she managed to sit down and take a breath, a commotion outside of the tent brought her senses back on full alert.

“Coming through! Quickly! Get him to Adan before we lose him for good!”

This did not bode well. Before the people talking even broached the tent, Hannah turned to a boy that had been napping on a bench next to her.

“Gordon,” she shook him awake. “Gordon! Run to the Chantry and grab Adan. He should be checking on the prisoner, but we need him back here, stat!”

The modern slang word slipped out before she could catch it, but thankfully nobody was around to hear it. Or care. A group of three soldier rushed inside, carrying a man that was either unconscious or almost there. She rushed along them and pointed to one of the unoccupied beds. She directed them to remove any remaining armor off the man’s body and that’s when she saw his face. And the four tattooed stripes on his chin.

“Fucking son of a bitch!”

The expletive fell from her mouth before she could stop it and her hands went to work at once. There may have been some grumbling next to her, but she was already focused on Rylen and shoved the others aside.

“Get out of my fucking way, you assholes,” she growled and they obeyed instinctively.

He looked bad; his whole body was covered in cuts of differing depth and length while blood oozed from a wound on his head. Somewhere in the depths of her mind she remembered those tended to look worse than they were, but she wasn’t going to risk it. A bowl of warm water and cloths appeared next to her and she briefly looked up to see a teenage girl with mousy blonde hair, ready to help. Talia.

“Dab at that head wound. Carefully. It’s probably not as bad as it looks, but let’s not take any chances. It will need to be wrapped up once you’ve cleaned it.”

Talia nodded and went to work while Hannah focused on the extensive bruising on Rylen’s left side. If she were to make an educated guess, something really large and very hard collided with his ribs and was the reason for his condition.

“What happened?” she asked.

A solder closest to her moved up a step.

“We were fighting a demon who was much larger than what we’ve seen before. It managed to escape our regular cordoning formation, lunged at one of the greenies, and Captain Rylen jumped in with his shield to save the kid’s ass. He was thrown at a rock and got smashed up real bad.”

“Did you do anything to help him on the spot?” she asked.

“We had one healing potion left, but we poured it down his gullet.”

She nodded. “You probably saved his life.”

Hannah prayed silently that Gordon would hurry with Adan because she wasn’t sure she could keep Rylen alive without magic. Those ribs looked shattered and she worried they were digging into his lungs. His breathing was really shallow and when she looked for the heartbeat, it was erratic and weak.

“C’mon, Adan, get your ass over here,” she whispered to herself.

She had been grasping Rylen’s wrist, keeping track of his whispering pulse, when his entire body relaxed and Hannah realized she could no longer hear his ragged breath.

She immediately pressed her ear to his chest and found no heartbeat.

“Oh no. No no no no! You do _not_ get to die on my watch, you motherfucker,” she hissed at him.

Something shifted inside of Hannah. She had seen so much pain and suffering - her stomach still tried to revolt at the memories - but those had been people she didn’t know, faceless soldiers who had signed up to serve. It was so much easier to distance herself when she didn’t know their names. This was Rylen and even if she had never actually met the man, she suddenly found a desperate need to see him live.

Besides, who else would relocate to Gryffon Keep and take charge of the fortress in the middle of a fucking desert?

“You are _not_ dying, you asshole,” she grumbled. “Don’t even think about it.”

Decision made, she took a deep breath and looked around. One of the soldiers had already intoned a prayer and the others looked sad and deflated; their captain had just died, after all. She tried to will Adan to show up at the tent already, but nobody approached. She would have to do this alone.

Her mind promptly provided a brief slideshow of images from high school, when she worked as a part-time lifeguard at a local swimming pool, interspersed with quick scenes from the hours of medical television dramas she had indulged in the past. A faint _”It’s lupus.”_ whispered in her ear and a hysterical giggle threatened to leave her mouth. She clearly, desperately needed sleep. Instead, she would try to perform CPR.

She had never had to perform it on a real person, and her certificates were over a decade old, but she resolved to do her best. Without preamble she pushed Rylen’s shirt open, laid her palms over his ribcage and began steady chest compressions. She could hear and feel the shift of his ribs under had hands, but she tried really hard not to focus on it.

“Twenty eight, twenty nine, thirty,” she finished out loud. 

She shifted to his head and found him still mostly covered in blood. Thankfully, Talia’s wet towel was within reach, so Hannah grabbed it and unceremoniously wiped Rylen’s face. She tilted his face back, pinched his nose and blew two large breaths into his lungs. His chest moved as it was supposed and she checked his pulse. Nothing. She returned to chest compressions.

“What are you doing, woman?” someone said close by.

“Fuck off!” she threw back and continued counting in her head. Eight, nine, ten, eleven.

Hannah eventually lost track of how many times she ran the cycle of CPR and she was starting to feel the soul-crushing realization that she would never get to know Rylen after all. He was laying on the bed, lifeless, and she could barely see him through the haze of her own tears. This was useless. Pointless. Why bother trying when everybody died anyway?

Frustrated, after yet another mouth-to-mouth, she decided she had to stop torturing herself already.

“Goddamnit, live!!!” she screamed and viciously pounded her fist, once, at his chest.

She had seen it on a TV show somewhere, and never really believed it worked, but then Rylen made a choking sound and his lungs rattled with a shaky breath.

“He’s alive!” she exclaimed and once again looked around. “Where the hell is Adan? “

Nobody had any answers, so she said a few unflattering words about the healer under her breath and went back to chest compressions. She wasn’t certain this was the thing to do, but she refused to give death another pass at Rylen. This was a battle now and she intended to win.

Several long, excruciating moments passed before a commotion at the tent flap drew her attention.

“I’m here! What’s going on?” came a voice at the entrance and Hannah breathed a sigh of relief.

“Adan! Come here. Can you pour magic into this fool so I don’t have to keep him alive anymore?” she pointed to Rylen. “I think his ribs are crushed and they’re stopping his breathing.”

Adan gave her a weird look but approached Rylen nonetheless, his glowing hands gently pressing into the shattered body. Only as an afterthought did Hannah notice how all the soldiers stepped back a little to let the mage work, but their face spoke of mistrust and wariness of the magic itself. She wanted to growl and berate them for their behavior, but found she had no energy left to care.

Once she saw the tissue knitting back to semi-normal under Adan’s careful ministrations, she moved back out of the way. She was done. Her shins hit something and she looked behind to see an empty bed with fresh linens. She plopped down with an ‘umph’ and hid her face in her hands. Finally, maybe she could rest for a moment.

“Why didn’t you use a healing potion?” Adan threw at her over the shoulder. “It would have saved this man a whole lot of trouble.”

“We’re out,” she bit out, her words slurring with exhaustion. “The next batch is still steeping at the cottage.”

He didn’t say anything else and she decided she wasn’t going to continue the conversation anyway. She tilted to the side and her face hit the pillow with a satisfying plop. She was halfway asleep when she felt a strange wave of energy wash over her, followed by happy hollering of people outside. She smiled to herself.

The Breach got stabilized and Rylen was alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> This chapter was really difficult to write, mostly because I suddenly realized how hard it would have been on the village people to support their soldiers fighting the demons. I am hoping that I can make it much more fun going forward. Maybe
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated. Also, I spend an inordinate amount of time on my [Tumblr](https://kagetsukai.tumblr.com/), so you can stop by and say hi :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah is still trying to keep her origin story a secret, so when a new friend asks her questions, the answers are not entirely truthful. She wants to stay under the radar and out of everybody's way, after all! Then she comes across a familiar face and that resolve goes promptly to hell in a hand basket. To top everything off, her body keeps rebelling against her, and the person she thought was a friend has a surprise she will not soon forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anybody wants to know, Agatha's face-claim is Dianna Agron as she looked in Glee: blonde and adorable :)

Hannah woke up to a gentle shake of her shoulder. There was a static hum of conversation and people milling about that felt pleasant and calming, and she desperately wanted to stay asleep. She pressed her eyelids together. Maybe, just maybe, if she kept her eyes closed, she could pretend that she was back home, on the Earth that she remembered, and not somewhere medieval and dangerous. 

“Hey, wake up,” said a female voice with another shake. “You can’t sleep here anymore.”

A long groan escaped out of Hannah’s throat as she slowly stretched on the bed she was laying on. She opened her eyes to look at the woman and… froze.

“Evelyn?”

The blonde woman narrowed her eyebrows and shook her head.

“No. My name is Agatha.”

Hannah rubbed at her eyes to clear the rest of sleep and stared at the woman again. The blonde looked eerily alike to Evelyn Trevelyan that she remembered from her first days in Thedas, but there were indeed differences. Instead of striking blue eyes and pale face, Agatha had warm brown eyes and slightly freckled nose on a skin that had definitely seen sun before. The smile was similar, though, and she wondered if perhaps all mages were taught the same kind of smile. She glanced at the woman’s robes. Yup, definitely a mage.

“You look like somebody I met once, sorry,” she said. “I guess it was too much to hope she had survived the Conclave.”

Agatha gave her a somber expression and nodded.

“We lost many good people that day.”

“Yes we did,” Hannah agreed, unwilling to give the thought more depth. She threw off her blanket and sat up. “I’m Hannah, by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Hannah.”

For a brief moment she wondered if women of Thedas shook hands, but when the blonde didn’t move in any way, she stayed put as well. Instead, she looked down at herself and the clothing she wore, zeroing in on various stains that decorated her crumpled tunic and pants. She felt sticky, her skin covered in a thin layer of sweat and grime, and she desperately craved a long, steamy bath. Too bad Haven lacked pipes with running hot water. 

Then a thought hit her.

“Ummm… Agatha? Where am I supposed to go? I don’t have a home in Haven,” she realized.

The mage raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“Really? Aren’t you Adan’s lover, though? I thought you lived with him.”

The thought was so preposterous that Hannah’s mind refused to process it at first. This woman thought she was sleeping with Adan! Picturing the man in any romantic situation with herself sounded so ridiculous she actually laughed out loud. 

“Oh goodness, no!” she exclaimed. She absently noted a man two beds away who gave her a stink eye for being too loud. “The Ostwick mages found me on the side of the road in really bad condition, brought me to Haven right before the Conclave, and left in Adan’s care until I got better. Once things went to shit, I offered my help, since I couldn’t do anything else anyway. Now I’m stuck in this village.”

Agatha’s eyes widened to almost comical size as she stared at Hannah in horror.

“So you are essentially stranded here? That’s awful!” she said. “How can you be so calm about it? Does your family know where you are? I’m sure the Inquisition could help you contact them.”

The words washed over Hannah in a wave of innocent inquiry that made her heart stutter. This was the moment of truth, she realized. She could either tell this woman where she was actually from, have her run to get the Inquisition brass, and then play Russian roulette with how they would end up treating her. Considering Leliana was a part of the advisory council, the likelihood of torture was high.

The other option was to lie like a fucking rug.

“I… I don’t know.” She sat back down, frowning, and put an extra tremble in her voice. She didn’t really have to act much, because the thought of never getting to see her parents or her brothers again was suddenly putting tears in her eyes. “I know I have parents and two brothers, I remember their faces even if they’re a little fuzzy, just here and there a bit, but I can’t remember their names?” The tremble in her voice kept increasing; she could no longer keep her emotions at bay, it seemed. “I know I used to live in a city of some sort, a big city with loads of people; it feels so far away now, like a different world almost. Everything is so, so _fuzzy_.”

She hid her face in her hands and let the tears flow. A small part of her felt terrible for lying to this innocent woman, but the logical side of her brain squashed any qualms. Instead, she thought about the life she had lost and let herself _feel_ that loss with body-shaking sobs.

Images of her parents throughout her life flooded her mind, smiling faces around a campfire, singing and guitar music late into the night, roasting sausages over a fire. Or multiple birthday parties where they would gather around a table and celebrate with a homemade cake. Her parents had always smiled, had always encouraged, had always stood by her side. Now, she had to think about how much pain they had to feel because of her disappearance. She quietly hoped the stress wouldn’t kill either of them. They deserved to live until really old age.

Soft, tentative arms wrapped around her shoulders and gently squeezed, interrupting her fatalistic train of thought.

“What about a husband? Children?” Agatha asked in an quiet, careful voice.

Jonathan’s pale, sickly face jumped to the forefront of her mind and all air left her lungs. No. She would not go down that rabbit hole right now. She had grieved already and would not let herself break down over it. As her therapist had said once, accept and move on.

She glanced at Agatha and shook her head, tears still filling her eyes. 

“None that still live. My husband,” she said and her voice cracked a little. “I buried my husband last year. I remember that all _too_ vividly.” 

Unfortunately, her tears refused to stay put and resumed rolling down her face. Through her shaky breaths, she could still feel gentle hands caressing her shoulder, and it helped steady her. Even if this woman was a complete stranger she had never seen before, it felt good to be held and comforted.

“Thank you,” she said and offered a weak smile. “You are too kind.” 

It took several more moments, but the tears finally stopped coming, so she rubbed at her cheeks to dry them off. She hoped the customary ‘crying headache’ she normally got would show mercy and stay away this time.

Agatha squeezed her shoulders one more time and leaned away.

“Well, don’t thank me yet. I think you have partial amnesia. It means that you can’t remember things because your head got hurt.”

Hannah did her best to keep her mouth shut and nod along without saying a thing. She knew perfectly well what amnesia was, of course, but she planned on playing dumb for as long as it helped her case; or at least until she figured out all the customs of Thedas and could fend for herself in this strange, dangerous world.

“I think I did get hurt in the head, so that makes sense,” she ventured.

“Well, considering you have a few scars on the neck and cheek, I think you are correct,” Agatha said and pointed to those spots.

For the first time since getting to Thedas, Hannah stopped to think about what she probably looked like after her magical recovery. She pressed her hand to the side of her face and felt along the thin, jagged flesh that ran from her temple down to the neck; she noticed how close to her jugular the cut came and she shuddered. She remembered the pain of the first few days and it stood to reason such extensive wounds would leave appropriately visible scars. Good thing she no longer cared if she looked attractive or not: when you’d been married for ten years, you stopped caring about looking good for other people.

“I suddenly wish I had a mirror to see them,” she said. “Maybe now I’ll look like one of those wizened warriors who have seen terrible shit.”

Agatha chuckled.

“I don’t have any mirrors, I’m sorry. You might have to find somebody else for that.”

“Do you think Adan would have one?”

The blonde shrugged. “Maybe? I think alchemists use reflective surfaces in their work so it’s as good a guess as any.”

Hannah nodded. She wanted to get back to the healer’s hut anyway, if only to see if any of her personal effects had been preserved. Also, she desperately needed to remove the stink of the last few days from her person. She stood up and slowly moved to leave the tent.

“That’s where I will go, then, since I wanted to see him anyway. He might have my things, if any survived.”

“Oh! I’ll accompany you, then,” Agatha offered and stood up. 

Hannah stopped to look at her in confusion.

“You know you don’t have to, right? I know the way. I’ve walked it several times in the past three days.”

“But I want to!” Agatha said with a smile. “I’ve been cooped up in here for since last night, I’m going crazy with boredom. Also, I’ll make sure you get there fine. You seem a little wobbly on your feet.”

Hannah would have felt sympathy for Agatha’s bad luck of getting the night shift, but she herself had just spent three days wading through human bodily fluids and being miserable while doing so. Still, after that last comment, she took every precaution to straighten up and walk as unhindered as she could. It helped that once she left the stuffy tent, the crisp morning breeze freshened up her lungs and cleared her head. It became much easier to focus on ignoring the stabbing pain in her left side.

“Tell me, Agatha, where are you from?” she asked casually.

“I’m Fereldan, as I’m sure you’ve figured out. I was born in Highever, where I lived until Templars took me in.”

Hannah narrowed her eyes. “Which Circle did you go to?”

“Jader, then Kinloch Hold,” Agatha replied with ease.

Of course. 

Hannah stumbled on a tiny rock jutting out of the path and Agatha was immediately at her elbow, supporting her. Perhaps the name should not have shocked her as much as it did, but it was difficult not to remember the Circle part of the story in Dragon Age Origins. Going through it in the video game was gross and unpleasant. Just thinking of how much real-life gore these people would have had to go through made her beyond queasy.

“Sorry, I didn’t see that rock there,” she corrected herself quickly and calmed her voice. “Kinloch Hold… Isn’t that on Lake Calenhad?”

“Yes! It’s a really tall tower and it’s very severe-looking. Have you seen it before?”

Hannah shook her head. “I can’t say that I have.”

For a brief moment she waited for Agatha’s face to change at the memories of Uldred’s rebellion, but no such thing happened. The blonde still looked at her with an open and soft expression, perhaps expecting more questions. The mage clearly had never experienced the threat of Annulment in her life.

Perhaps that train of thought would have taken her somewhere grim, but it got derailed the moment she took another step: her left hip completely gave out and sent her down to the frigid ground. The pain flared with force she wasn’t prepared for and made her gasp for air. Agatha once more jumped to her rescue and shifted her onto a nearby outcropping of the wall. 

“As I suspected,” Agatha admonished quietly. “You’re hurt. Would you mind if I used magic to diagnose what’s wrong?”

Hannah looked at Agatha through the haze of pain and frowned.

“No, go ahead.”

While the mage put her already-glowing hands on her hip, Hannah mentally tried to figure out what could be wrong with her. The pain centered on her hip, which most likely indicated a problem with the bone that had not been addressed before. There seemed to be something going on with the tissue around it as well, because she felt pain both around her back and the left side of the abdominal cavity. She didn’t know much about anatomy beyond the basics, but she hoped Agatha would be capable of fixing things.

“You’re not going to like this,” the mage announced after a couple of minutes. “I believe initially you had a completely shattered pelvic area and severely broken hip bone. That being said, whoever healed you did a splendid job of patching you up. They just didn’t anticipate you being out of bed so soon and running around, doing hard work. Which dislocated some bones in this area.”

“Of course,” Hanna groaned. “Now what?”

“This is the part you won’t like. I can reset the bone the way it’s supposed to be and trigger correct healing of the surrounding tissue, but it’s going to hurt. We need to get to Adan’s for a better pain-killing potion than what I have with me. That means hobbling through town on one leg.”

It also meant spending a lot of time moving while her hips made her dizzy with pain.

“Can you do it right now? Without the painkillers?”

Agatha’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s out of the question! I don’t think you realize how much that would hurt. This isn’t some papercut I’d have to heal. This is serious!”

“Yes, I know. I’m the one who’s in pain here. I’ll be fine, I swear,” Hannah shot back. “It’s not like I haven’t had a shattered body before.”

The mage still stared at her with big, shocked eyes and blinked several times.

“I don’t think I want to subject you to it anyway.”

“I request that you do.”

“No!”

“Please don’t argue with me; I’m more stubborn than you are, I guarantee.”

The blonde narrowed her eyes and a few long moments passed by.

“Even if I did this here, you’d still have to get to Adan’s and that can throw off the realignment,” she pointed out.

“You volunteered to be my crutch, even if not in so many words. I’ll just lean on you and it’ll be fine!”

Agatha sighed in frustration and Hannah recognized a look of defeat.

“With all due respect, but I think you are insane.”

“I'll take that as a compliment,” she smirked at the mage. “ Either way, do you have a belt I could bite down on? A stick maybe? As long as nobody hears me screaming, it should be fine.”

On the outside, she grinned in the most cocksure way she could muster, but Hannah definitely felt a lot less brave than what she presented to the girl. Bones shifting within muscle tissue, and maybe even against other bones and joints, sounded like the worst torture imaginable. That being said, she had an ulterior motive: she wanted to see if severe pain would be enough to wake her up from this Thedas nightmare and back into the real world. She had already tried pinching, but maybe something more intense was in order.

Agatha stared for a brief moment before she reached for her belt and unclasped it. She folded the thin leather in half and handed it to Hannah.

“You’re either incredibly brave or extremely foolish, I’m not certain which,” she commented. “Make sure you bite down hard, because this will hurt _a lot_.”

Hannah did as instructed and took a steadying breath.

No amount of mental fortitude could have prepared her for the severity of pain she felt the moment Agatha’s magic touched her body. The first few moments were almost bearable, but she soon found herself grinding down on leather while her entire body clenched and revolted against the changes. She had always pictured magical healing as something soft and comforting; she never considered it could be this excruciating and rough. Still, this had to be done so she would get it over with.

“What is going on here?”

That voice. 

The magic stopped immediately, so Hannah could not blame severe pain for hearing things. She kept her eyes screwed shut while Greg Ellis’ voice washed over her like a warm breath. She didn’t dare look at the man yet. What if the reality of this world did not reflect what the game had imprinted on her mind?

“Please explain to me why you are performing magic out in the open and without Templar supervision. Were you not informed of the restrictions?”

Those severe words, even while spoken in deep molten voice, shook Hannah out of her reverie. She opened her eyes and turned to watch Cullen fucking Rutherford tower over the two of them in the most menacing way possible. He stood just in line of sight with the sun and she blinked, trying to get a better look at his face. She had pondered a number of times over the last few days what she would do if she came across the fandom-proclaimed sexiest man of the Inquisition. What she didn’t expect was the sudden anger at how accusatory he sounded. The way Agatha cowered before him made her blood boil with rage.

“I apologize, Ser.” Agatha’s voice sounded small and shaky. “I’m aware of the restrictions, Ser. Her hip is hurt and she couldn’t walk to the healer’s tent by herself so I chose to help her here.”

That wasn’t where they were headed, but Hannah wasn’t about to correct her.

“What restrictions?” she asked. She made sure to direct the question to Agatha only.

The mage looked even more uncomfortable. “We’re not supposed to use magic outside of the healer’s tent or a few pre-approved spots.” 

“The Inquisition doesn’t have enough Templars to station around the village to make magic safe to be around,” Cullen cut in, clearly annoyed at being omitted. 

He shifted a bit and Hannah could finally get a better look at his scowling face. Interestingly enough, he didn’t seem that much different than in the games, though he did look more human and less like a sweaty plastic doll. The dark circles under his eyes intersected with other dark lines across his face and gave him a gaunt, starved look of someone who hadn’t eaten in days. His lyrium withdrawal came to mind as well, but Hannah wasn’t ready to ponder that topic just yet. Instead, she wanted to defend her newfound friend from getting bullied.

“Yes, of course,” she bit out in his general direction. “After all, mages are just abominations-in-waiting and only your Templar presence prevents any sort of possession from happening. Silly me for not realizing!”

Agatha’s mouth dropped in horror. Hannah watched as Cullen’s eyebrows rose far into his forehead and he shifted once more, towards her, his body language speaking of barely contained anger. Perhaps she had pulled out her pro-mage stance a tad too early.

“I assure you, this is for everybody’s best interest,” he ground out.

Hannah caught Agatha’s eyes and saw the mage rapidly shaking her head in the most miniscule way possible. This could get really dangerous for a mage, she realized, so perhaps antagonizing a former Knight-Commander was not the best course of action. She closed her eyes, took several deep breaths, and counted to three in her head.

“Right. Nevermind. Got it,” she replied tersely and reached for Agatha’s hand. “We’ll be nice and obedient, and remove ourselves from this spot, then.”

She pulled at the mage and stood up. The movement hurt like a bitch, but she felt determined to leave this entire situation behind. His savage words had upset her to the very core. Clearly, her mind still remembered Cullen Rutherford from the end of the video game, when he was gentler and all but separated from his former Templar ways. This version, at the start of the Inquisition, had a lot left to learn.

“Maker’s breath, you’re actually hurt!” he said and reached for her other elbow.

Hannah shook off his touch before her body could register it properly. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake! Are you fucking dumb?” she shouted at him. The pain flared immediately with the impetus of her breath, forcing her to soften her voice. “Were you not paying attention to _anything_ Agatha said? Did you think she was making shit up? My left hip is seriously fucked, and she was trying to make it better, but since you have some fucked up Templar rules about free-range magic, we are leaving.”

“Hold on a se--”

“I don’t think so! You have issues with our presence here, so we’re going. Besides, aren’t you the Commander?” she asked and pointed to the training field behind him. How had she not seen it before? “Don’t you have some commanding to do instead of babysitting a cripple and a mage? I promise we won’t summon any demons while you are away.”

At that, she turned on her heel and tried not to hiss in agony. She clutched at Agatha’s arm while they carefully stepped forward along the path and within the village boundaries. 

The words, thrown viciously in his face, had to have impact because he didn’t say anything else and she soon heard a rough crunch of frozen earth beneath his retreating feet. She wanted to turn around and watch him leave, but realized she shouldn’t. Cullen had behaved like an grade-A bully and such people only responded to strength. Hannah kept her pace and poise, even while her hip happily resumed its symphony of pain.

They continued hobbling along towards Adan’s place. Agatha didn’t complain, but it had to be incredibly difficult to provide support for someone who was several inches taller and however many pounds heavier. They quietly huffed and puffed as the two of them made steady progress along the village lane. It didn’t take long for Hannah’s guilt to rear its ugly head.

“I’m sorry I got you in trouble,” she whispered quietly.

Agatha’s head shook a little under her left arm.

“Don’t worry about it. I should have looked at your injuries before we left the tent,” she replied just as quietly. “Then again, if I had, I would never have seen that priceless look on the Commander’s face.”

Hannah frowned.

“What look?”

“That look he had when you yelled at him?” Agatha giggled quietly. “I think it’s been a while since anybody antagonized him so thoroughly and with such strong language. You must have thrown him off completely! He was shocked still, all wide-eyed and slack-jawed. It was brilliant.”

Hannah thought about it for a moment. Cullen always put up a front of extreme professionalism in all situations, so any deviation from that expectation would fluster him. She suddenly wished she hadn’t been in pain and too distracted by her anger to notice the look. 

“Perhaps it’s a good thing, then,” she noted. “If he hadn’t been so shocked, he could have resorted to something unsavory. It’s not like either of us are in any shape to go against the Commander of the forces.”

“He wouldn’t have,” Agatha corrected quickly. “He’s actually one of the good ones and he’s usually nice to us, mages. Something must have happened for him to act so roughly.”

Something in her voice made Hannah peek down. Agatha’s face was partially hidden from her, but she could still see a tinge of red in the cheeks and teeth coyly biting at the lower lip. The woman clearly had a bit of a crush on Commander Cullen.

“I’m curious how you know so much about his temperament,” she teased with a smile and winced in pain when Agatha shrugged a little too vigorously.

“When you are a mage, you have to know as much as you can about all the Templars you come in contact with,” she explained, though her cheeks still sported a faint blush. “I make it a point to be friendly with all of them. It’s useful.”

“Unless the Commander decides he’s feeling particularly cranky.”

Agatha shook her head again.

“Perhaps. But even then, the worst he does is shout at the offending party. I have never seen him resort to bodily injury as a punishment. Besides, he’s not a Templar anymore. Most of the Templar-related affairs are handled by Knight-Captain Rylen. He is always really friendly.”

Hannah’s nodded in agreement. “I’ve heard he’s a good one.”

“Oh! Didn’t you save his life yesterday?” Agatha asked. “It’s all anybody could talk about for hours! _A mysterious woman kissed Knight-Captain Rylen back to life!_ I’m not sure why they thought you’re mysterious, but all healers heard the story.”

Hannah would have tripped and fallen on her face again, if not for Agatha’s strong grip.

“Please tell me you’re kidding,” she whispered in horror.

“I am completely serious!”

Hannah groaned out loud and tried to hide her face behind the right palm. _Oh god_. Hannah had worried briefly if her CPR technique would bring about any questions; she never considered it would place her firmly in such a ludicrous situation. She should have expected it, though; this was a war camp and gossip about perceived romantic endeavors traveled fast. All she had to remember was Cullen’s kiss with the Inquisitor in Skyhold and how quickly _that_ news spread around. She only wished this rumor would die quickly, like an anecdote that had worn its use.

“I did _not_ kiss him back to life,” she grumbled while hobbling along. “It’s a technique I’ve seen, where you push air into a person’s lungs to help them breathe again. I’m surprised nobody said anything about me pounding on his chest a lot.”

“There was that, too, but let’s be honest, kissing someone back to life sounds way more romantic!”

This wasn’t happening. How the fuck did her situation get weirder?

“You know, I’ve changed my mind,” she proclaimed to Agatha. “Please put me against one of these houses and stick me with something sharp. I have lost the will to live.”

Agatha’s giggles rang out loud and true.

“I didn’t know you were this dramatic. It’s not so bad! Besides, give it a few days. Something new will happen, and people will forget about the whole thing.”

This definitely mirrored Hannah’s earlier thoughts, but it still made her uncomfortable. The last thing she needed was to get romantically associated with a Knight-Captain. She needed to stay as anonymous as possible!

The memory of shouting at Cullen came back in a quick flash and she felt her face warm in embarrassment. She really needed to get better at keeping her rogue tongue under control or people would start asking more in-depth questions.

When they finally arrived at Adan’s hut, Hannah felt so dizzy from constant pain she could barely stay upright. She vaguely saw the door open, heard some words being exchanged, and another, stronger arm helped get her inside. Together, they moved her inside, into the second room that held the bedrooms, and laid her down on one of them. After a few more exchanged words, a glass vial pressed against her lips.

“Drink this.”

“What is it?” she asked. It had been drilled into her to never drink things she didn’t recognized.

“It will help with the pain.”

Only then did her brain register Adan’s gruff voice as someone she trusted and she opened her mouth to accept the potion. The liquid tasted both bitter and sour, like he had juiced a whole grapefruit and topped it with lime, but instead of a fruity aftertaste, there were mixed flavors of grass, mint, an old shoe and gin. She gagged, but the effects were immediate: her entire body now felt weightless and free.

Her eyes focused and she was finally able to look at the worried faces of Agatha and Adan.

“Thanks. I’m not sure how much more of walking I could have taken.”

Adan scoffed at her.

“It’s because instead of staying put and letting your body heal, you decided to gallivant around Haven, doing Maker knows what!”

“I’m sorry for trying to help you,” Hannah bit back. “I guess next time, I’ll just let you work yourself to the ground.”

Adan was going to say something else, she could tell, but Agatha didn’t let him.

“Can we leave bickering until _after_ I complete my healing?” she asked pointedly. “If you could be so kind, Adan, I will probably need a lyrium potion after I’m done here.”

The man knew he got dismissed, but chose not to fight the issue. He gave Hannah one more scrutinizing look and left the room.

“Now, let’s get your pants off and get to work,”

Before Hannah’s sluggish hands could stop her, Agatha yanked at her pants and pulled them down to the knees. She gasped, promptly reached for the blankets and threw them over Hannah’s lap.

“Yeah, about that. I don’t own any underwear,” Hannah said with a sheepish smile. “The tunic, pants and shoes are the only clothes I have. They don’t even belong to me. I’m not sure where they came from, actually.”

Agatha cleared her throat, but the embarrassed blush still graced her pretty face. Hannah briefly reminisced the last time she was bashful about being naked and drew up blank.

“It’s fine, as long as you’re fine. I’m supposed to be a healer, so I’m used to nudity,” the blonde said quickly. “I just… wasn’t expecting it.”

“Honey, I’ve been naked around a whole lot of people at this point in my life,” Hannah said and reached out to pat Agatha’s hand. “Also, we’re both women, so it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. Just do the healing however you see fit.”

Agatha stood there for a moment, clearly uncertain what to make of it all, then she shrugged and reached for the blanket again. This time, she lifted the bottom half and continued removing the pants. When she got to the shoes, those came off as well and soon Hannah was sitting under the covers in nothing more than a tunic. Perhaps she should have felt exposed, but the potion still held the dreamy effect and she didn’t care.

“Are you ready?” Agatha asked and Hannah nodded in agreement.

Last time, the pain had been so excruciating that Hannah had almost passed out. This time, it felt like something similar to getting a shot or getting teeth cleaned at the dentist: slightly painful, annoying, but ultimately manageable. The weirdest part was the feeling of shifting bones and muscles under her skin. She almost wished she could watch the movement, but Agatha had put her hands under the blanket and directly onto the skin.

“Does the magic work better if you do it skin-to-skin?” she asked, unable to stop her curiosity.

“Yes,” was the short reply and Hannah got a distinct impression that further talking would be distracting.

She waited and watched and tried to feel everything, even through the delicious haze of painkillers. Magic had always fascinated her and having an opportunity to watch it in action was a dream come true. Perhaps she could make friends with more mages and watch how they worked their craft?

Soon enough Agatha retreated her hands and sat back on the bed, looking pale and exhausted.

“That should do it for now,” she exhaled. “This time, please stay in bed for at least a full day and don’t do anything more strenuous than a leisurely walk for additional day or two. Once you’ve healed up, please come see me again. I think there’s something else going on, but I think your body has had enough for now.”

Hannah nodded and hoped that Thedas and the Inquisition would not collapse while healed. She reached for Agatha’s hand and squeezed it gently.

“Thank you so much, Agatha. You have gone above and beyond for me, a complete stranger, and I am grateful for your kindness.”

The woman’s cheeks colored once more. 

“It’s the least I could do.” She smiled brightly. “I mean, I’ve heard what you have done for this village, for Adan, and as a healer, I had to help you.”

Before any more words could be exchanged, the door opened with a bump and a grumpy-looking Adan walked into the room, holding a small blue vial.

“I assume you are done, then?” he asked. “Here’s the potion. I hope it’s to your satisfaction.”

Agatha grabbed it, uncorked it, and smoothly poured it down her throat with a motion so practiced, Hannah had no doubt she had done it multiple times before. She briefly entertained the notion of sampling a drop - for science! - but she quickly dashed it out of her mind; doing so would be equivalent of trying cocaine or heroine: both potentially deadly and highly addictive.

“I think this is my cue to leave,” Agatha said and stood up. “Again, please see me once you’re done recovering.”

“Will do!” Hannah replied and watched as the blonde stepped out of the room.

She shifted her gaze to Adan and noted nervousness that hadn’t been there before.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

His eyes flitted to her for a second, then went back to staring at the floor, the chair, her bed. He cleared his throat and as if having made a decision and moved to sit on a chair by her bed. He reached into his robes, pulled out a small velvet bag and held it out to her.

“I have something for you,” he said, his voice trembling a little. “It’s inside.”

Hannah stopped and looked at the little baggie that hung from his hand. It was unassuming and seemed a bit heavy. Some weird emotion prickled at her eyes and she quickly blinked it away.

“Thank you! You really didn’t have to!”

She reached for it and pulled it into her lap. The potion still coursed through her veins, so her movement was uncoordinated and sluggish with the strings. When the thing finally untied, she tipped it over and a clear glass orb fell into her hand. She looked up, a confused question ready on her lips, when she felt a sharp snap of magic surround her body.

“What? What just happened?” She tried to set down the orb, but she found she could not move her body. Panic instantly rose in her chest. “I can’t move! What have you done to me?”

To her horror, Adan’s face hardened into a scowl, while he pulled his chair even closer.

“I put a bind on your body,” he growled. “You will now tell me exactly who you are and how come you knew the Conclave would explode.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah! A cliffhanger! I've never done one before so this is new. I hope it's okay! I will try to write the follow up as soon as I can.
> 
> This took forever to get started (for some odd reason), but once I got to it, new things would not stop coming out. I swear, 80% of the fic was not even in the outline. I hope the chapter didn't come off as boring or too much. Next chapter should be more fun. Maybe. I have stopped trusting my muses when trying to describe the future of this story. I always think one thing will happen and something completely different comes out. Yay?
> 
> I hope everybody likes it! Comments and kudos are life :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a trying morning, Hannah finds herself immobile and at the mercy of Adan. She has no idea what will happen next, but her hope is for the best. Unfortunately, she might have to deal with the worst.

The moment stood still. 

It seemed like hours, days even, had passed between the two them as Hannah stared into the dark, unyielding eyes of a man she had considered a friend. 

“Are you insane?” she asked incredulously.

Panicked, her voice shook and she knew it; the sensation of straining against her own body, and not being able to move it, freaked her out more than she cared to admit. Adding to it, she still felt the fuzzy effects of the pain-killing potion. The combined sensations made her completely at Adan’s mercy.

“Release me!” she roared, fear strong in her blood.

While her lungs struggled against her stationary ribcage, she watched as Adan jumped out of his chair, knocking it over in the process, and put a fair amount of space between them. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was afraid of her.

“I won’t let you go until you tell me the truth,” he exclaimed in panic; she could see his hands shake a little.

“You’re out of your fucking mind, Adan, if you think I had anything to do with the explosion at the Conclave,” she threw back at him. “If you recall, I was splayed out on this very bed and mostly unable to move on my own. There is _no way_ I could have caused the explosion! You yourself had to help me get out of bed!”

A glimmer of recollection flashed through Adan’s eyes and he pointed at her.

“That’s the thing!” he exclaimed. He took several breaths to stabilize himself and bore his gaze into her. “I didn’t realize it at first, I was too preoccupied with the wounded, but you knew the Conclave was going to be destroyed. You specifically asked me about its timeline and then commanded me to help you see it explode. You _knew_. It’s particularly terrifying, since so many people died and you behaved like you just had to watch it happen. It’s disgusting and I really should have Sister Leliana deal with you instead.”

The name of Inquisition’s Spymaster brought all of Hannah’s senses on even higher alert. She cursed her lax behavior; she should have known better! She had been so focused on keeping her point of origin a secret that she hadn’t considered what her speech patterns and behavior would look like to a Fereldan. She had to see if she could use her terrible poker face and lie her way out of this, or if her Thedosian adventure would come to an end at the tip of Leliana’s dagger.

“Adan, you’re wrong. I’m just an innocent bystan--”

“You are complicit!” he exclaimed and immediately clamped his mouth shut - his own outburst had clearly startled him. It didn’t take him long to regain his wits, though. 

“Don’t lie to me, please,” he said. “There is something wrong with you, with who you are. It doesn’t add up.”

Hannah kept quiet, hoping an opening in his logic would let her squirm out of this mess. Her silence seemed to pacify him and he stalked back and forth as he laid out his theory.

“I’m talking about your behavior, how you talk, the way you carry yourself,” he vaguely waved his hand in her direction. “While in the healer’s tent, you would comfortably talk with soldiers about the filthiest topics I’ve ever heard of. Then you would turn around and listen to me use some high-level healing jargon and behave like you understood it all. Your accent sounds dwarven, but not exactly, and I have no idea where it’s from, but it has to be far from here because it’s nothing I’m familiar with. You’re a walking contradiction!”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“So you think I am strange and I talk funny, therefore I should be poked to death by Sister Leliana?” she scoffed. “What a load of bullshit!”

Adan mirrored her expression as he stepped towards her.

“No. I think there’s more to you than that,” he said softly. “I think you haven’t been in southern Thedas long enough to learn our customs or language, so you’re pretending to be confused about the world. I think you’re just a Tevinter spy who came here to thwart the Divine’s plan to reunite the Chantry. You want our countries in chaos so you can invade us and make us all slaves and blood mage thralls!”

That train of thought was so surprising and sounded so preposterous Hannah choked out a dry laugh.

“I’ve never even been to Tevinter! I literally dropped on Haven’s doorstep without a warning. I wasn’t planning on being here. I didn’t want to either. Yet here I am!”

But Adan would not be convinced.

“You are lying. Maybe Tevinter didn’t hire you, but I’m sure somebody did. And maybe you had a whole group of people working for you, but they didn’t know it would be a suicide mission for them while you sit back and watch the show.”

That last accusation finally broke her resolve.

Hannah had wanted to keep quiet and weather the onslaught of Adan’s bumbling questioning, but the thought that she’d be accused of mass murder made her blood boil with anger and fear. How was she supposed to convince this alchemist that she wasn’t an enemy? How could she make him understand she had helped out of the goodness of her heart. Her breath sped up and she quickened her inhales as her immobile body tried to adjust to her increasing agitation. She was quite upset, and the increasingly fuzzy feeling did not help focus her thoughts. Instead, she let her anger reign.

“ _How dare you!_ ” she hissed, cold fury making her words crisp and clear. “After I got chewed up and spat out into this godforsaken piece-of-shit world, after I spent three days ass-deep in this bullshit-town trying to help you save an endless stream of sick and dying, you have the _gall_ to accuse me of… of… what, genocide? Fuck you, fuck your family and fuck the horse you rode in on, you son of a bitch!”

Perhaps her words would have had more impact if she could gesticulate at him, but Hannah was not paying attention anymore. The outrage shook her very core and could not stop her wrath from taking over. She barely noticed how Adan subtly moved away from her again, even if he knew full-well she couldn’t move.

“And yes, I did know Conclave was going to explode, but not because I’m some clever spy who got herself so beat up my entire body was broken. Oh no, nothing so mundane, dear Adan,” she spat out those words as if they were bile on her tongue. “You see, I’m not from around here, you’re right, but it’s much, much further than the fucking Tevinter. I am from a completely different world! I come from a place where all of you, _the entire Inquisition_ , are a part of a game to be played by millions of people. I’ve watched that Temple explode at least four times, in high definition, on my very comfortable couch, you asshole!”

Silence rang loud after her last words and she took several shallow breaths against her petrified body. The potion was starting to wear off and the combination of pain, panic, and lack of proper oxygen was making her increasingly faint.

“Also, undo the body bind,” she requested, her now-softer voice sounding distant to her own ears. “I’m about to pass out from lack of air because your ignorant ass doesn’t know how to immobilize people properly.”

Perhaps Adan was too shocked to deny her, or maybe he finally took pity, but he pointed a finger at the glass orb and the sensation of complete stillness vacated her body. Hannah inhaled a breath of stale Fereldan air - it felt like the sweetest ambrosia entering her lungs -, threw the orb across the floor, and collapsed backward onto the pillow. She still hurt, but at least the anxiety from lack of oxygen began receding almost at once. 

“Don’t try anything stupid. I can still hurt you,” she heard him say.

Hannah took another deep breath, confirming that her body was once more her own, and lifted off the pillow. 

“Sure you can,” she said with as much sarcasm as she could muster. “The pain-killing potion is wearing off, which means my ass feels like it’s on fire, so trust me when I say I have no energy to do _anything_ at the moment, no matter how much I want to. You may hurt me at your leisure.”

Adan stayed silent for what felt like a moment, while she tried to shift into a more comfortable sitting position. She failed. 

“Your story is preposterous, “he said evenly. “There is no way you’re from another world. I still think you could be a spy.” Something in his voice made her question that very statement. 

“Because a Herald falling out of the Fade with a mark on their hand is that much more plausible,” she retorted sarcastically and sought out his eyes. They were narrow, fearful, and uncertain. “No. You want to believe I’m a spy because my behavior doesn’t make sense. Then again, I think you’re a scientist at heart who wants to understand things that don’t make sense.”

Adan shook his head a bit and finally sat down on the chair he had pushed away earlier. Hannah noticed how he didn’t slide it any closer.

“No, you do not,” he agreed. “That being said, your story about the Inquisition being a game does not make sense either.”

Hannah nodded in agreement. She had no idea how she would convince Adan of her origin without talking about the future, a future she had no way of confirming. She sighed.

“I have no real way of convincing you I’m telling the truth. I know a whole lot about the Fifth Blight, the events at Kirkwall and the rise of the Inquisition. With that in mind, the last will not mean anything to you because that hasn’t happened yet,” she paused and thought for a second. “How about you ask me questions and we’ll see if something triggers?”

Adan narrowed his eyes again. “Alright, let’s start with me, then. Where was I born and what is the name of my mother?”

A chuckle escaped Hannah’s mouth as she looked at him with embarrassment.

“Not to burst your bubble, Adan, but you are not important enough to the operations of the Inquisition to warrant a background story in the game,” she told him. “The Herald reduced you down to an apothecary with a side-job of potion research.”

A sudden flash of anger passed on Adan’s face and he grunted.

“That void-taken ambassador walked in here just this morning and demanded I make potions for the Inquisition. They announced Inquisition’s formation and they expect people to just... fall in line!”

Hanna smiled. “I see you got a visit from Josephine, then?”

“Yes. Is she a friend of yours?”

“No, but I know a lot about her, since she’s a crucial part of the Inquisition for years to come. I firmly believe that if not for her, this whole shindig would have ended within the first few months.”

Adan gave her a long look.

“You say years. How long will it go for?”

Briefly, Hannah wondered if telling him details about the future would hurt, but decided this small thing would be fine.

“The Inquisition lasts about four years before it either gets disbanded or gets absorbed by the Chantry,” she offered, then shifted gears. “You have to understand something, though. You _cannot_ tell anyone about any details I give you or we could all die. I’m not exaggerating! For example, if the Commander knew the outcome of a particular battle, he might not apply all of his skill to ensure victory, thus potentially dooming the rest of us.”

“That’s a bit over the top, don’t you think?” he asked, smirking. “Wouldn’t it be beneficial to the Inquisition if they knew what would happen next?”

“No!” Hannah scoffed in frustration. “I’ll make it even simpler, then. Let’s say I tell you that the stew you’ll eat tonight will give you a horrible stomach pain and you’ll have to stay in bed for almost a full day to recover. You’re grateful, skip the stew, and wake up the next morning ready to work. You go into town to purchase supplies, get ran over by stampeding druffalo, and die an excruciating death.”

Adan’s face went pale.

“I’m not saying it will happen like that, though changing the future is a terrible business, one I’m not willing to participate in. I don’t want to provide details and then have to watch people die because of my inability to predict all potential outcomes. It’s why I’ve kept my mouth shut thus far. Thankfully, most people aren’t smart enough to figure it out.”

He actually chuckled at that.

“If you’re trying to ingratiate yourself to me with flattery, it won’t work,” he said.

“I’m not trying anything, actually.” She shrugged. “Just earlier I managed to convince Agatha that I have partial amnesia and that I don’t remember where exactly I’m from. She didn’t know any better.”

He hummed in response. One of his hands lifted to his face and he tapped at his lips.

“So let’s say I believe you - and I’m not saying I do. You are talking about being from another world that uses ours as a game. That’s insane. Plus, how would that even work? How would you come here, unnoticed?”

That was a really good question, Hannah thought. She kept trying to figure it out in her head, but no matter how she sliced it, the answers didn’t make sense.

“Short answer? I have no bloody clue,” she said, shrugging. “I mean, I have several ideas, but they are all rather crazy. Just off the top of my head, this could be trans-dimensional travel.” 

Adan made a confused face, so she continued. “Thedas is connected to a separate dimension already, the Fade, and the Veil is the barrier that keeps the worlds separate. Perhaps if you can make a hole in the Veil to get to the Fade - aka the Breach - you could potentially make another hole into my world. What I don’t understand is how I could be transported to Thedas and there be no leftover hole in the fabric of this world. The amount of energy needed to successfully pass a human being between such diverse dimensions would most likely explode both worlds. Granted, I have read an article somewhere about the possibility of dimensional travel through gravitational waves, but that was still firmly in science fiction section.”

Hannah stopped her rampant speculations when she noticed Adan’s eyes glaze over. The look was familiar to her; she would get it anytime she’d start describing her engineering work or anything science-related to people who had no interest in it, or had no frame of reference. Instead, she gave him some time to sit in silence and process what she had told him. It was a lot, she realized, but Adan seemed like an intelligent man. He looked to be at war with himself, but she also knew the moment she had won him over.

“I’m starting to believe you are who you say you are,” he finally muttered. He shifted in his chair and leaned in again. “You just used a string of words in rapid succession and I have no idea what they mean.”

Hannah shrugged with a smile.

“I’m sorry. Back where I’m from, we have access to a lot of knowledge at our fingertips. I can read anything I choose! I would often get lost in scientific articles about things entirely disconnected from my own life. It’s how I can even make a theory about my presence in Thedas. It’s not like I learned it in school.”

They sat there in silence, neither sure what else to say.

“Now what?” Adan asked. “You’re here with all this knowledge. The Inquisition could really use your help to close the Breach.”

“No,” she shook her head. “As I’ve said, I can’t use what I know of the Inquisition to help them, because that would potentially screw up the future. And I can’t use any of my science knowledge because it’s simply too advanced for what this world has. Trust me, the people in charge of this circus will do just fine without my input.”

“I disagree,” he insisted. “I think you should at least talk with--”

“I can’t!” she exclaimed, shaking her head. “Can you imagine what would happen if they found out about me? Lady Cassandra would want to murder me on the spot as some sort of a demon. Same with Commander Cullen, most likely. Sister Leliana would try to either coerce me or torture me into revealing the future, while Lady Montilyet would try to find ways to use me in her diplomatic work. That sounds like my personal hell, so no thank you!”

Adan looked taken aback at the intensity of her conviction. Even if her assumptions were wrong, Hannah felt completely unprepared to deal with any of these powerful Thedosians. Above anything else, she hated being unprepared .

“I’m sure they wouldn’t be that bad,” he intoned.

“Maybe individually?” Hannah conceded. “You have to remember though, they have started the Inquisition and they are bound by its tenets. None of them would keep a secret this big from each other, just because I asked nicely. It doesn’t work that way. And really, I’m terrified of Leliana’s daggers. They would shred me to pieces in no time.”

Hannah could tell Adan was not satisfied with her explanations and that he wanted to pressure her further. She was also running out of ideas.

“Please, I beg of you. I cannot go with this to the Inquisition,” she implored. “There is a driving force behind this bullshit with the Breach and if that asshole found out about my existence, about what I know, he would take me and make me talk. If they can anticipate Inquisition’s actions, all will be lost.”

Adan shook his head.

“But if the Inquisition knows what you know, that could be prevented as well,” he reasoned.

A dry laugh escaped Hannah’s lips.

“Then we’re back to square one, minus my life,” she pointed out. “Please excuse me if I want to keep myself alive for the time being.”

Adan stared at her for a moment and sat back in his chair.

She let him think again, her words clearly disagreeing with what he felt on the topic. Hannah really hoped he would go along with her haphazard plan, because the other options terrified her senseless. She didn’t want to be attached to the heart of the Inquisition and she didn’t want to ‘help’ them along. As long as they had the Herald, they could do it all by their lonesome and they didn’t need her there. Instead, she planned on integrating with the village in a more prosaic way or find a sponsor that had a need for her particular set of skills.

Very briefly Hannah pondered what joining the military would be like, to get lost in the shuffle of soldiers and equipment, but the thought of potentially killing another human sickened her to the core. She had been a pacifist her entire life and had made sure she worked to build and improve the world, not destroy it. No, she would get familiar with the workings of Haven and maybe learn a trade that would help her after the Inquisition. 

That’s when the reality of having to readjust and relearn everything hit her with renewed force. Dragon Age games had been nice and romantic to fantasize about while she sat in the comfort of her home and devoured her favorite foods. Experiencing everything first-hand had been less than fantastic and she wanted to go home, badly. Deep down, she knew it would not be easy to accomplish, or not be possible at all; most fan stories describing that kind of a trip showed it as one-directional and always permanent. Hannah sighed deeply and willed away tears that threatened to fill her eyes; she hated crying in front of others.

At that thought she looked up and refocused her eyes on Adan; he watched her with intensity she couldn’t readily decipher, making her wonder what decision he had made. He cleared his throat.

“Can you guarantee a positive outcome of this Inquisition?” he asked softly.

She nodded eagerly. “Yes.”

“And nobody has to lose their life?”

Hannah tried her best to keep her face neutral while the thoughts of bloodbath at Adamant, Arbor Wilds, and Haven flashed through her mind.

“It will all turn out fine, I promise,” she said steadily.

For a breath or two she watched as Adan scrutinized her words. _Please don’t turn me out. Please don’t turn me out. Please don’t turn me out._ kept running through her head, willing those thoughts to become truth. Then his face shifted and settled into a small smile, though almost completely covered by his beard.

“I think I’ll trust you, for now,” he announced with a nod. “But don’t think I won’t ask you follow up questions. You’re not off the hook just yet. I want to know all about this world you came from.”

All air vacated her lungs, filling her instead with trembling relief and _omg yes_. 

“Thank you!” she exclaimed. “I will try my best to answer all of the questions about my world you may have. I promise.” She moved to pull the covers and reach to him for a hug when the slide of the blanket against her bare skin reminded her she didn’t have pants on. Instead, she softly clapped her hands together and gave Adan another big smile.

He nodded again and opened his mouth to say something else when two dull thuds echoed through the cottage. They both froze in place.

“Hello? Is anybody here? I’m looking for potions!”

Hannah could have sworn the muffled male voice sounded familiar and judging by Adan’s sour expression, it had to be the Herald. She shifted in her bed.

“You should probably attend to that,” she quipped. “I guess you’ll have to wait until later to hear my fantastical stories.”

The grimace that Adan responded with made her smirk in return. The alchemist was really starting to grow on her and she hoped they could become good friends.

“I swear, how can I do any sort of research if I’m busy catering to some spoiled brat’s whims?”

Hannah yawned.

“I can help you,” she stated simply. “I was decent at chemistry in high school, so I might be able to help with elfroot extracts. Once I take a nap, that is.” 

Another yawn escaped her mouth. She wondered if the pain-killing potion had any latent sleeping properties or if the excitement of the last few hours had caused her sleepiness to come back. Or perhaps her body still hadn’t rebounded from three days of non-stop high alert. 

She watched as Adan slowly stepped towards the door.

“We’ll talk once I’m less exhausted, okay?” she tried to placate him and lowered herself onto the pillow. Things still hurt, they never really stopped, but now that she didn’t have adrenaline pumping through her veins, she felt spent. Everything else would wait until she rested.

“Alright, after you sleep, then,” Adan agreed and disappeared on the other side of the door.

Hannah briefly pondered listening in on the conversation, somehow, but quickly gave up. She wanted, no, _needed_ sleep. She could figure out things once she caught some z’s and ate some food. As she tried to settle into a more comfortable position, her body finally relaxed and she fell into dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you follow me on Tumblr, you know how much I've been cursing about this chapter. It was supposed to be an easy and (somewhat) fun chapter to write. Instead, it was a laborious process that took weeks to complete. I apologize for the delay. I hope the story holds up and that it all makes sense. All comments are welcome :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah finally has some time to herself so she decides to organize her thoughts. Unfortunately, what her mind comes up with is neither helpful or happy-making. So she continues going about her life in Thedas, hoping that something changes for the better. So far, with no luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT, I AM ALIVE!!! I would like to apologize for such a long break since the last chapter and I hope this one doesn't disappoint TOO much. Also, damn this is long. Please enjoy some snark a la married couple, a fair amount of introspection, and an introduction of more characters (because I have no chill).

The next morning came with an abrupt knock on the door and a loud huff of annoyance.

“Just how much longer do you think you will sleep?” came a muffled voice that she knew belonged to Adan.

Hannah could have sworn there was a giant wad of cotton surrounding her head, but when she reached for it with her hand, she only touched the slick, sticky skin on her face.

“Unnnghhh…” she groaned into the pillow “Yerblerghhh...”

The door opened then - she recognized the telltale scratch of wood against stone floor - but her eyes would not crack even a sliver and stubbornly stayed closed.

“The morning bells sounded almost a half an hour ago” Adan kept grousing. “Get your ass out of bed. There is work to do!”

It had been decades since the last time anybody had treated her like a petulant teenager, so of course it made Hannah think of her parents again. Dull, pervasive pain of longing and loss bloomed in her chest and she clenched her teeth; she would _not_ cry again, it was probably why her head hurt right now. Stubbornly, she reached for her covers and pulled them tighter around herself.

“Really?” she heard Adan’s incredulous voice somewhere near her. “Are you always this sluggish in the morning?”

Hannah grunted something unintelligible and attempted to force her eyes open again, this time with moderate success.

“Usually I don’t have a mother hen hovering over my bed,” she quipped, her voice strangely scratchy. “Ugh, why does my mouth taste like the horse’s ass?” The last thing she remembered was dropping off to sleep after some vigorous verbal sparring with Adan.

“I don’t know. Did you put your mouth up a horse’s ass?” he asked tersely.

She groaned and tried to roll her eyes; she hoped it would help her get them open and focused quicker, as well as convey the true depth of her annoyance.

“You are entirely too clever for the hour,” she replied. She paused and let the braincells catch up with reality. “Speaking of which, what _is_ the hour?”

The annoyed aura rolled off Adan in spades and Hannah started feeling bad for needing to ask such simple questions.

“I don’t know how it works where you are from, but here the morning bells ring six times,” he said through clenched teeth. “Would you also like the cardinal directions and maybe the alphabet?”

Hanna sighed, pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes and finally pried her eyelids open. The room was bright, but not enough to justify why she was having such issues waking up.

“Where I’m from, we have personal clocks on tiny devices that keep time and we have no use for village-wide system like you have,” she explained patiently. “But seriously, can you think of a reason why I feel like I drank my weight in hard liquor?”

Adan looked at her like she was mentally slow.

“That pain killer you took yesterday was extremely strong and it usually knocks people out for several hours,” he pointed out. “Agatha paid you a visit last night and you didn’t even twitch a muscle. She checked your progress and said to wake you up in the morning. Which is now.”

The urge to glare at Adan was overwhelming so she did exactly that. He didn’t seem fazed even a little and just stood there at the foot of the bed, waiting for her to start moving. Which would be any moment, if Hannah could convince her muscles to cooperate.

“One… Two… Three…!” she counted out and heaved her torso upward.

The room immediately spun in a series of fuzzy circles and she would have collapsed backward if it wasn’t for the right hand she stretched out the last minute. She leaned heavily against it, hoping her muscles would hold her upright. They did, but barely.

“I don’t know what you put in that potion, but that’s some really strong shit you’ve got there.”

He shrugged in reply. Probably.

“It’s why I don’t just hand it out to whomever,” he said. “It needs to be a serious emergency for me to give it out. I’ve known people who got addicted to it and died from overdose.”

 _Great_. So Adan basically had given her the Thedosian version of morphine and now she had to hope to not get addicted to it. Considering the horrible aftertaste and the raging headache, the likelihood of that happening was slim to none.

As her head continued to clear, Hannah took stock of her body and mind. She still felt annoyed at being stuck in Thedas and was still desperate to find out how it had happened to begin with, but those feelings were somewhat duller at the moment. As far as her body went, things were in a much sharper contrast. The headache, the dry mouth, and the sluggishness that she felt were definitely a side effect of the potion and she couldn’t wait to drink some water to wash it down. Her left hip still throbbed a little, but it was no more than what she was used to when she’d overwork herself in tae kwan do.

“Do you have any coffee or black tea handy? I could really use some caffeine to get myself going.”

Adan’s eyebrows rose a little.

“Coffee? What do you think this is, Orlais? That stuff is expensive!” he said. “And I do have tea somewhere, but you’ll have to make it for yourself. I have more important things to attend to.”

Hannah shrugged and was about to attempt getting out bed when she caught a glimpse of her naked thigh under the covers, followed by some pungent body odor that assaulted her senses. She crinkled her nose.

“I am certain that what you have to do today is super important, and I’m sure I could help you with things, but I think I should bathe first and maybe find a set of clothing that isn’t covered in three days’ worth of bodily fluids.” She gently tugged at her tunic and grimaced. “Ugh, I’m so gross.”

With unsurprising efficiency, Adan found the discarded pants and threw them in her lap, then turned towards a large, plain wardrobe that sat in the corner of the room and started rifling through its contents. Hannah got a distinct impression he was giving her time and privacy to pull up her bottoms, so she did just that.

“This room used to house all of the apprentices that my master employed,” he said while digging through clothing. He paused, a few items clutched in hand. “For the time being, you may use whatever you find in this closet, though you should stay away from the mage robes,” he continued. “I doubt the villagers would take kindly to a random mage look-a-like wandering in their midst.”

Hannah narrowed her eyes at the somewhat angry note in his voice, while her hands finished lacing her dirty pants. She swung her legs off the bed and tried to stand; it was difficult, since her left side still hurt. Either way, she took a small step towards Adan, hoping to give him a little bit of comfort with her presence.

“I’m sorry, you probably miss your colleagues,” she said quietly.

Adan chuckled as he turned to her, though his face held no mirth.

“Like I’d miss a pimple on my ass,” he replied vehemently and Hannah furrowed her brows. _What?_ “These people did not care about me. Among the apprentices, I had the weakest magic therefore I was relegated to the so-called menial work. They didn’t care that since I didn’t use shortcuts, my potions were always stronger, more potent. I was a throwaway. I wasn’t important enough to go with them to The Conclave.”

He was breathing heavily now, upset at having brought up a hurt that clearly had festered for a while. It took a few moments, but he eventually calmed down enough to continue speaking.

“Am I sad they died? Yes. They did not deserve to die and whatever evil caused that explosion needs to pay, but I will not shed tears over people who’ve made my life a living nightmare for the past decade.”

Hannah had a feeling this could become a miserable tirade for hours to come, so she decided to be an asshole and steer the conversation to a topic closer to her immediate needs. Namely, taking a bath.

“Well, I’m sorry either way,” she said and reached for the clothes he was holding. “So, how do I go about cleaning myself? I don’t want to put clean clothes on my unwashed body. Is there a bathhouse I can use, or a brass tub I can appropriate, or will I have to boil a cup of water in the hearth and give myself a sponge bath?”

Adan frowned at the change of topic.

“This might be Ferelden, but we’re not _complete_ barbarians, no matter what you may have heard,” he said and subtly lifted his chin. “There is a large bathhouse with water from the hot springs beneath the mountain. It used to belong to some cultist leader back in the day, but it has since been rebuilt to accommodate the public.”

Interesting. Hannah did not remember such a building existing in the game, but decided to go with it.

“You might have to shows me how to get there, I’m afraid,” she said and watched for his reaction. “This village looks much bigger than I originally thought and I have no idea where to find that.”

Something twinkled in Adan’s eyes, a question or a curiosity that he chose to keep unspoken. Instead, he nodded and stepped towards the door.

“I have until the seventh bell before I have to open up for business. While the Inquisition is my main customer, I do have traveling merchants and villages from remote cottages to think about. People need their potions.”

Hannah nodded in agreement and slowly followed Adan out of the room, then out of the cottage. The cold wind hit her exposed skin and she shivered; thankfully, the rest of her body was covered in fabric that was most likely wool and it prevented frigid air from permeating deeper. The trek itself was slow going for her, because the pain still bloomed every time she stepped with her left foot and she chose to be cautious to let her body heal. Her precautions were for nothing the moment they came to the first set of stairs.

“I’m not sure if I can scale that,” she said with a whine.

Adan scoffed softly and roughly grabbed her hand. With a skin-to-skin contact, she felt his hand cool significantly and a soft blanket of magic wrapped her in a gentle cocoon. The dull throb of pain was still there, but it no longer made her wince with every move.

“Thank you, you’re my hero,” she said only semi-sarcastically.

He only replied with a grunt that even Cassandra would have been proud of.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. That’s only a simple healing spell; it will wear off quickly enough,” he grumbled towards the ground and stepped forward again.

“I’m grateful either way,” she said with a grin he couldn’t see and followed him up several short staircases.

The moment the bathhouse came into view, Hannah immediately recognized it as such from the outside. The building stretched long and sat snugly against a tall stone wall and was surrounded by pine trees. Copious amount of steam escaped from various holes and crevices and just the thought of that hot water pouring over her body made Hannah pur deep in her chest. Adan cleared his throat to catch her attention again.

“There are a lot of people in the village, so there is a schedule of sorts: up to twice a week,” he explained. “The attendant will get you set up with a time and a day, as well as a towel and some soap.”

Hannah nodded along. This arrangement was what she had hoped for and was glad it was twice a week and not once a month. The former was agreeable, the latter sounded horrifying.

“What about food?” she asked. She wasn’t hungry yet, but she knew the gaping hole in her stomach would soon demand its due. “I’ve been brought food inside the healer’s tent, but I’m sure I won’t be so lucky anymore.”

He nodded.

“The Inquisition brass and the nobles eat at the Chantry and they have their own kitchen. The rest of us get to eat at the communal kitchen.” He turned and pointed towards the lower parts of the village. “Once you’ve bathed and changed into clean clothing, you can go there to pick up food. Breakfast is served between seventh and ninth bell every day. You’re not officially part of the Inquisition yet, so if anybody gives you any grief, just tell them you’re my assistant or something.”

“And they’ll give me food just like that?” she wondered out loud.

“There’s no reason why they wouldn’t,” he replied with a shrug. “The explosion at the Conclave wiped out a great number of people, then the demons poured out of the Breach and decimated the army. I have a feeling we might be experiencing a momentary surplus in food. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

The unexpected candor left Hannah shocked and silent, her thoughts immediately jumping back to the three days she had spent helping at the healer’s tent. So much violence happened within a short period of time since her arrival, she had a hard time believing it to be true. She had vivid recollection of every injured body she had tended to and every death she had had to witness. This new reality sucked major ass.

She was not allowed to dwell on her past too much, though, once they approached the sole attendant at the bathhouse - a middle-aged woman, plump, and dressed in such traditionally Fereldan clothes that Hannah couldn’t help but smile.

“Good morning,” Adan said with a short bow and Hannah followed suit. “Do you have time for this one to bathe? She’s not on the roster yet.”

The woman gave her a once-over and nodded.

“Sure thing. Here’s a towel and soap,” she handed Hannah a basket with those items. “Women’s side is on the right. No one’s inside, but don’t dawdle. If you want to wash clothes, the laundress is just down the street. She charges five copper per wash. Or you can grab one of the washboards around back and do it yourself at the stream. Your choice.”

The soap was coarse and brown, and it dredged up vague memories of things from her childhood at her grandmother’s house. Since she didn’t have any money - and didn’t want to ask Adan for it - she shrugged.

“I should be fine with a washboard.”

Adan huffed at that. “Of course. Please, make sure to take your time and do it thoroughly so you can miss breakfast.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Hannah growled back. “You’re behaving like I’m a five year old child. I’m injured, not inept.”

“Suit yourself. I have better things to do than sit here and watch you waste your time on mundane tasks. Elfroot potions won’t brew themselves!”

“I didn’t ask you to babysit me either!” she rebuffed him. “Now that I know where I am, I am sure I will manage to find my way back all by myself, thanks.”

“Make sure that you do!” he announced with finality and turned on his heel. The way he walked away made it look like he tried to make himself seem more important than he was.

The attendant leaned towards Hannah and whispered.

“What crawled up _his_ ass?”

Hannah snorted.

“I don’t know, but I’ll let you know if I find out!”

The other woman laughed out loud. With a cheerful smile on her lips, she waved Hannah inside and went back to whatever else she had been doing before.

The inside of the building turned out to be somewhat like the hot springs resorts Hannah had gone to back on Earth, though a lot more primitive. Once beyond the inner door, she entered a large room that housed several stone troughs - bathtubs, most likely - while random shelves lined the surrounding walls. The whole place was somewhat dim, as no candles were used to brighten the place; instead, a large pool of steaming water opened up to a mountainside and was the only source of light. With a little bit of investigating, she figured out that in this communal bath, women would set their belongings on the shelves, fill the tubs with water by carrying it with buckets from the reservoir, then afterward drain them by lifting a little stone plug at the bottom. Interestingly, there was a slant to the floor and all excess water rushed down into a sewer grate. Where that emptied, Hanna could not tell.

As a first order of business, she grabbed a bucket and began filling one of the tubs with water from the reservoir. The whole thing seemed largely inefficient, but she figured improvement of the bathhouse process would be rather low on the Inquisition’s to-do list, so she filed it away for later consideration. For now, she would focus on getting herself clean. Once the tub sat filled with delightfully warm water, Hannah went to peel off her filthy clothing. The shoes, which were at least a size too large, were dirty, but she didn’t have another pair so she made a mental note to see if she could locate a cobbler. Next went her tunic and her pants, both so dirty that she worried this set of clothes would have to be tossed even after washing. She was about to step into the bath when her eyes fell on her body and she gasped.

Hannah had expected that whatever had happened to her had the potential to leave a mark, but she was not prepared for the extent of scarring she saw now. The area around her left hip looked like someone had detonated a grenade filled with shrapnel next to it, her skin lined with zig-zags and straight lines alike. When she turned her arm, she saw matching scars that grouped around her elbow and up; thankfully, her ribcage and chest seemed to have escaped most of the carnage and sported only a scratch here and there. The scars varied in shade, but they were all the kind of dark red that only came from fresh wounds.

Not willing to fixate on the new state of affairs, she stepped into the tub and quickly submerged her body up to her neck. The clear water did nothing to hide the ugliness and Hannah watched the scars as they trailed down her legs and across her stomach. Thoughts of what could have caused it flooded her mind and none of them sounded good. From her knowledge of Thedas, the only things that could cause that kind of damage were in the ogre or druffalo category, which somehow seemed unlikely. It was more likely that she had sustained major injuries either during her transportation to this world or right before it.

That thought made her pause.

What was the last thing she remembered before getting transported to Thedas? She had been so preoccupied with surviving in this inhospitable world that she hadn’t had the time to stop and think about her origin. She vaguely remembered getting herself to and from work, but that had become routine so long ago that such memory gave her nothing. There had been a phone conversation with her mother about meeting her parents for lunch, but she couldn’t actually remember if they got together for that. Did she have an accident while driving to their house?

She pondered briefly what that would mean for her. If she had had a car accident, it would have explained why her left side was the one more affected than the other, especially if she had gotten t-boned. That would also mean that she was most likely in some kind of a coma and living out a video game world as her new reality. It also neatly explained why her arrival in Thedas didn’t cause the world collapse - it wasn’t real after all. The only thing that didn’t line up was the pain: normally, inducing pain within a dream would be enough to wake up in the real world, but so far she had been downright masochistic in her exposure to extra stimuli and nothing had changed.

What if this wasn’t a figment of her imagination after all? What if Corypheus had opened a trial rift somewhere along the way and Hannah had been unfortunate enough to drive her car through it? It would still explain her extensive injuries, but now she had to wonder if there was a piece of foreign technology just lying out there in the middle of the mountains. What if it had been collected by Corypheus’ forces? What if he used it to gain unfair advantage over the Inquisition?

To distract herself from that fatalistic train of thought, she decided to finally carry on with bathing. She reached for the soap and quickly worked it up to a lather, wondering just where to start first. She stood up again and spread it all over herself, rubbing roughly at any and every part that she could reach. It didn’t take long for the water to gain that murky, whitish soap color, and it became more so when she sat back down to rinse. Next up was her hair and that took a considerably longer time to get through. She didn’t have a comb or a brush, so knots she had ignored until now refused to come undone. This was a problem, of course, but not one she could solve right now, so she just focused on getting clean.

Her mind drifted again and she wondered if there would be a way for her to go examine the site of her ‘arrival’ without causing a commotion or a lot of suspicion. If she could find the entry point, she would have a better understanding of what the nature of her being in Thedas was and how she should proceed.

But what if this really _was_ all in her head? How did one go about leaving their own head? Did you have to find a door somewhere in the world and walk through it? Eluvians came to mind but she had no idea how to get a hold of one at this point in the timeline. Then again, if this was more of the Matrix kind of a deal, she would have to decide to take much harsher measures in order to leave Thedas.

“No,” she said to herself, out loud. She did not have enough information to make that kind of a serious decision and self-termination was not something she’d be able to reverse later, if she were wrong. No, first she needed to figure out what had happened and make a choice then.

This line of reasoning did not sit well with Hannah so she decided to wrap up her bathing and go on her merry way. She reached between her legs and tugged at the rope that attached to the stopper. It took some strength, but she finally knocked it loose and she stared as the water steadily swirled down the drain. Once emptied, she stepped out of the tub and quickly reached for the towel to dry herself; even though the hot springs steam heated up the air, it was still the mountains and the chill was ever-present. She did a weird dance where she tried to keep her wet hair out of the way while she dried her body, then she wrapped her hair in that same towel and looked on the shelf for the shoes and a clean change of clothing.

It wasn’t until she touched the somewhat flimsy fabric when she realized that while her soiled wool tunic had prevented most of the cold from reaching her skin, this one was less weather-appropriate - she was looking at a trek back to the cottage while completely freezing her ass off. Joy. It was clean, though, and it felt good to put on something that wasn’t covered in a thick layer of grime.

She was still trying to towel her hair dry when she stepped outside. The attendant was sitting around, knitting, while morning sun climbed just above her head.

“Pardon me?” Hannah stared, hoping her smile looked friendly enough. The woman’s hands stopped moving and she turned around. “I just realized I have nothing to help me with hair. How do I go about getting myself a comb?”

The attendant smiled indulgently and set aside her work. She stood up and reached into a large cabinet that attached to the outside wall of the building; just from a quick peek inside, Hannah could see a variety of hair accessories, personal cloths and… were those toothpicks?

“Here, take these,” the woman said and she handed Hannah a brush, a several hair ties, one of those wooden sticks and a few pieces of cloth. She tied it all into a handy little sack and smiled again. “Normally we charge for them, but I’ve heard of what you’ve done for this village, so I’m going to pretend these just went missing.”

Hannah blinked a few times, confused.

“What do you mean, what I have done for this village. I’ve been here a week. There hasn’t been enough time to piss off a nug.”

The smile on the woman’s face softened and she gently patted Hannah’s hands around the bundle.

“I am Martha, Gordon’s mother,” she introduced herself. “I’ve heard enough stories to know that you are a good soul, so if you need just this much to help you along, I am happy to provide.”

Hannah slowly shook her head, not sure what was the feeling that threatened to drown her heart.

“I cannot accept that. I’m sure it costs a lot…”

“Stop that,” Martha said quietly. “These items were meant to be sold to visiting fancy folk at an outrageous markup. Now, they are all dead and have no use for overpriced hair brushes. Keep it.”

Hannah suddenly remembered the baker’s wife, her hands filled with loaves of warm bread, as she begged to keep her husband safe if he ever turned up at the healer’s tent. He had not survived, but Hannah also never went back to that woman to tell her in person. Somehow the realization that she had failed yet again came crashing down and her unsteady emotions tipped over.

“I really don’t deserve this kindness, Martha,” she whispered to the woman, her voice thick with unshed tears. “So many have died and I couldn’t help them. I’m not a healer. I was never meant to do this, to be here, and--”

Warm, gentle arms wrapped around her and she melted into an embrace that was both accepting and unassuming.

“You may not be a healer, but you behaved like one when the village needed you most,” Martha said and slowly pulled away. “Be proud. I know I am.”

It was all too much, all at once. Tears kept trying to force their way out, prickling at the back of her eyelids as she pressed them tightly together. Emotions battled for prominence with more basic needs of shelter and food, as she kept getting a reminder of the world at large with every time a gust of wind hit her back. She also knew she should get back to Adan’s hut, but she desperately needed to wash her clothes. Martha once again seemed to have sensed her dilemma.

“Leave those here, I’ll wash them for you,” she announced and grabbed the dirty bundle in Hannah’s left hand. “I’ll send Gordon later when it’s all clean.”

Hannah decided this really _was_ too much.

“No, I will not have you do my laundry. I’m sure you have a lot of other things to worry about,” she commented and tried to grab for her clothes.

“Oh, this is a one-time thing, don’t worry,” Martha replied. “For now, get your arse back to Adan’s. I don’t know where he got this outfit, but without a jacket, you are bound to catch your death.”

Indecision tore at Hannah, bits of honor dictating that she take the dirty bundle and do the washing herself. At the same time, the high winds whipped her about and the fact that her hair was still damp under the towel did not help her retain her body heat. She narrowed her eyes at the woman and glared.

“Fine, I’ll let you do it _this_ time,” she announced and Martha grinned triumphantly in reply. “But don’t think I don’t know how to do my own laundry.”

“Of course,” Martha replied with a twinkle in her eyes. “Do pass my well wishes to Adan, when you see him.”

This was a clear dismissal and Hannah bristled at it. She wanted to argue, to win her point, but the cold won once again. She turned on her heel and with a hand wave behind her she skipped down the stairs in a rush. At least the pathways had been kept clear of ice so she didn’t lose her balance, though she could still feel a twinge in her left hip.

 _A left hip that looked like WWII had a battle over it_ , she thought to herself.

She pushed the thought aside, unwilling to fixate on her looks. It wasn’t like anybody would see her naked anytime soon, since she wasn’t actively looking for bed mates, and Hannah suspected it would be several years before she even considered seeking companionship. By then, the scars would hopefully fade.

In a bit of a somber mood, Hannah traversed Haven’s stairs and pathways back to Adan’s cottage. Now what the Breach had been stabilized and the soldiers started to recover, the village didn’t seem so deserted anymore. The mood in general felt higher and most people she passed nodded at her or murmured a generic greeting.

Her destination finally came into view... together with a familiar bald head belonging to a certain elf who stood in front of his hut.

 _Solas_.

It took everything Hannah had not to stop and gape. The only reason she had forgotten where he usually spent his time was because her brain had been trying to come up with a solution to her Thedas problem. Now, he was right there, though he was not looking in her direction just yet. Panic settled hot and heavy in her gut, and she sped up her pace without even thinking about it. There would be no reason for him to approach her, right? She was just a random shemlen walking by while wearing a goddamn towel draped over her head. He would just think she was weird, right? She was not mentally prepared to deal with the motherfucking Fen’Harel, out of all people! This would have to be a confrontation on another day, possibly never. She almost fell on her face, she was so distracted stepping over the stoop.

Adan could not be found where Hannah had assumed he would be, but it did not worry her. She found her sleeping quarters and without much preamble she went about setting her hair to a shape of not-a-mess. The brush was of quality she had not seen anywhere outside of those hippie boutiques for the wealthy: the frame made of solid wood with bristles she assumed was most likely horsehair, interspersed with thin wooden pegs. It had been almost a week since the last time she had thought of her hair outside of a headscarf to keep it back, so the knots were of epic proportions. She took the time, brushing out the long, dark-brown strands into perfect smoothness. Once done, she briefly pondered what to do with it before settling on a version of a French braid. Thankfully, she was practiced so it didn't take long. She was soon ready to find something to eat.

Armed with a warmer coat and a wool hat she had found in the wardrobe, Hannah stepped out of the cottage. Solas was still there, of course, but this time she was prepared for his gaze and didn't freak out when he lazily glanced in her direction. There was a mild spark in his eyes, but it was clearly nothing beyond casual interest of someone who had to suffer neighbors. She tried to act as natural as possible, though she wondered just how _not_ natural she looked while she skulked past. 

Thankfully, nothing happened.

It took some searching and asking questions, but Hannah finally found the area that had the tables set up to feed the population of the Inquisition. Most of the people present wore the uniform she recognized as the military and she openly stared at men and women that milled about: there were several dwarves and elves and she marveled at the size differences as it compared to regular humans. She desperately wanted to befriend these people and ask them a million questions, but realized this would make her seem too weird at this time – perhaps it could be something to do as the time went on. For now, she would look everywhere, and at everything, and absorb as much information as she could.

The buffet-like line to grab food was surprisingly short and organized. Breakfast that morning consisted of something that looked like overcooked grits topped with some sort of gruel, but Hannah wasn't going to complain. She was looking for bowls and spoons when she felt someone come up next to her.

“Whatcha lookin' for, love?”

Hannah turned slowly and looked at the man that stood a little too close for comfort and smiled in a way that would normally make her roll her eyes. Here, in Thedas, it made her narrow her eyes and take a half-step back.

“Bowls and spoons,” she offered.

The man – who had brown hair and some startlingly blue eyes – crossed his arms and leaned in.

“You have to bring your own. It's part of your starter equipment as a recruit, you know?” he announced, ever so pleased with himself. “I'll let you use mine, if you let me have a kiss in return.”

Ah, of course. Hannah had been left alone in Haven all of two hours and she already had scored her first creeper.

“I'm not a recruit and I’m not here to... make _friends_ ,” she said, carefully measuring her words. “Adan sent me to get food and he didn't tell me I needed to have bowls.”

She hoped that dropping the name of the apothecary would give her some sort of leverage against this man, but it only encouraged him further.

“Adan is an idiot, clearly,” he said and reached a hand across her shoulders. He was close enough to smell his less-than-pleasant body odor. “I can help you much more than some filthy mage.”

It was _way_ too early in the day for this kind of bullshit, Hannah decided. This was why she had long since abandoned the club and bar scene, and usually stayed away from groups of unknown men. She had planned on keeping an inconspicuous profile in Haven, but the way this guy kept leering at her would most likely prevent exactly that.

“Remove your hand,” she said through gritted teeth.

He smirked.

“Why?”

“Because I don't like to be touched by men I don't know.”

She tried to shake him off, but he dug his nails into her shoulder and pulled her even closer against him. A hiss of pain escaped her mouth and he chuckled to himself.

“I like the noises you make. I'm sure there are others I would like as well.”

It was getting ridiculous and dangerous, and a sliver of familiar panic slipped under her skin. This asshole apparently had decided that eight in the fucking morning was just the time to pick up women, while more and more people around them watched what was going on. Several of other men shook their heads with a smirk while the women watched warily. Hannah realized that if something bad happened, she wouldn't have any support.

Not wanting to wait for this asshole's advances to get worse, she reached up to the hand on her shoulder, wrapper her fingers around the wrist and pressed onto a nerve cluster she knew would bring him pain. As luck would have it, the man had taken off his gloves before the morning meal so the direct pressure did the trick almost at once. He yanked his arm away with a curse and glared at her with malice.

“What in the blazes did you do?” he growled. “I was being nice to you, you fucking mage whore.”

They had moved on to the belligerent phase, apparently. Hannah had expected it, of course, so the words had even less impact than most times, and she mentally prepared herself for the incoming shitstorm of Thedosian misogyny.

It never came.

Instead, in a decidedly smooth motion, another man appeared next to them, grabbed the first guy by the scruff of the neck and catapulted him away in a somewhat practiced motion. Hannah blinked a few times as she watched the asshole trip over a pot full of dirty water, knock it over and fall into the mess, face-first. While the scene brought on several chuckles from people around them, she was more interested in her ‘savior’.

The new arrival was what most fangirls would call the example of a perfect Fereldan male: tall, with broad shoulders, and clad in armor that accentuated the quiet power in his trim body. He had short, wavy brown hair, piercing brown eyes and a squared jaw you could cut your hand on. When the cocky grin that graced his full mouth made her think of inappropriate things, she quickly looked to the sputtering guy on the ground.

“I am incredibly sorry for Keith's behavior,” the man said in a deep voice that made Hannah's toes curl. “I am responsible for him, but it's a constant struggle to teach him how to properly speak to women. I hope you can forgive him.”

Hannah frowned and met his gaze again.

“That remains to be seen,” she quipped. “I’m not keen on people who do not understand the concept of consent.”

The man nodded. “Hopefully between the two of us we can teach him a lesson.”

Something in the tone of his voice made Hannah pause.

“You speak like I should care about this man. Am I supposed to know him? Do I know _you_?”

The smile he gave her was wide and indulgent, the kind of thing you give a child who asked about a concept too difficult to grasp. It set her teeth on edge at once.

“I’m Ethan,” he said with a quick and shallow bow. “Me and my squadmates were the ones who brought in Captain Rylen when he got hurt and we got to watch you revive him in the most peculiar fashion. I cannot blame Keith for wanting to sample the magical lips of the lady healer.”

The significant look he gave her mouth was enough to put one of her hands over it.

 _Damnit._ Was this what she would have to deal with for the next foreseeable future? Men who were curious about her ‘mysterious powers of revival’ wanting to see if her mouth held secrets of the universe? She would have to dispel this notion as quickly as she could, she realized with horror.

“Let me be the first to tell you that I hold no mysterious powers, I am not a mage, and you can scarcely call me a healer,” she pointed out, praying she could explain this in plain words. She made sure she spoke loudly, so as many people as possible heard her explanation. “The technique I used forces air into a person’s lungs in order to help the body breathe again. It’s not a fail-safe method and the Captain would have died if not for Adan’s swift interference. We all got incredibly lucky my crazy idea worked.”

Ethan frowned, though she wasn’t sure if he was disappointed with the explanation or if he hated magic the way Keith seemed to. Still, Hannah felt she needed to drive the point home.

“I guess what I’m saying is, the only thing a forced kiss would yield anybody is a swift punch across their face,” she said. 

She formed her face into her signature ‘cute smiling face’ that very clearly meant ‘I will stab you in the eye if you try anything funny’ and hoped this guy got a clue. 

A throaty chuckle escaped Ethan and he smirked.

“I think I understand what you’re trying to tell me,” he concluded and Hannah breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “Now that we have all of that cleared up, perhaps we should stop holding up the queue and let others get food?”

As if some invisible bubble had popped, the rest of the world came crashing down on Hannah and she looked around in horror. There was a small crowd of people forming around Keith, who managed to get up and was halfway through cleaning his clothes, while the rest stood close enough to see her breath speed up against her chest.

“Damnit,” she swore under her breath.

Ethan chuckled and reached to gently take her elbow.

“Here, let me help you get food and we can talk about Keith’s shortcomings at another time?” he suggested.

She nodded quickly, too eager to leave this situation to bristle at being touched so freely.

In the end this whole ordeal could have been avoided if Hannah had thought to ask the cooks about getting food to go. The ladies behind the table stared at her with open curiosity as she loaded up two bowls of food, stuck spoons into them and turned to leave.

“Make sure you bring those back clean, mistress,” one of the women said.

Hannah nodded an agreement and blushed, embarrassed. As a woman of the Western civilization she had been used to self-sufficiency and impersonal treatment from the service people. Having to relearn and ask for every single thing was quickly becoming an extended lesson in humility.

To her increasing annoyance, Ethan chose to follow her back to Adan’s, though he did not offer to help carry the bowls.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t check on Keith? You mentioned he was your charge,” she pointed out.

Strangely, he only laughed.

“He needs to learn there are consequences to his actions,” he replied. “Besides, I would much rather make sure the pretty lady makes it back in one piece.”

The smile that split his face made him look entirely too handsome for his own good and Hannah felt herself scowl; she was getting too old for this shit and this man looked just old enough to be appealing.

“Listen up, Ethan,” she said and stopped walking. “I appreciate your help, I really do, but I think you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

He had gone a few steps ahead of her before he stopped, so she couldn’t see his immediate reaction, but when he finally turned around, his smile was gone; instead, he looked disappointed and hurt.

“Wow, you really don’t mince your words, do you?” he asked and casually shifted closer. “Let’s get something straight, then: I was trying to be nice to you. You are clearly not from around here and I figured you’d need a friend, but perhaps I was wrong.” He narrowed his eyes. “And since you prefer to be rude, I’ll take my leave now. Good day.”

He was several paces away - Hannah was staring after him with a sinking feeling - when he paused and looked at her for a moment.

“Also, most people offer their name in return when someone introduces themselves. That’s called basic decency. Please learn that before you act all rude in front of some noble prat prone to violence.”

With that, he made his way back towards the training grounds, leaving Hannah alone and feeling like the shittiest person in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! Hannah is quickly learning that her modern sensibilities and brusque behavior won't be helpful in the world of Thedas, but we'll see if that lesson sticks. Maybe she just needs to stick with Adan? 
> 
> Also, if anybody is interested in keeping track of face claims for my OCs, Keith was modeled after Zac Efron and Ethan is basically Theo James. I really need to make a Tumblr page with everybody's faces...


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the breakfast fiasco, Hannah is not in the best frame of mind to deal with revelations. Alas, new information comes to the forefront and she’s suddenly confronted with the fact that perhaps her Thedas adventure sucks more than she was mentally prepared for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual, this was supposed to be a shorter chapter, an emotional interlude between two characters trying to rehash their opposing views. Too bad I couldn't make it happen in under three thousand words.

The main room of Adan’s hut look cluttered, filthy and inviting all at the same time, yet Hannah didn’t notice any of it at the moment. She sat on an uncomfortable wooden chair next to a battered workbench and was completely lost in her own gloomy thoughts.

No matter how much she tried, she could not stop feeling uneasy about how things had gone at breakfast. All in all, she had expected something like the altercation with Keith to happen at _some_ point, so she had been prepared for having to fend for herself. What she did _not_ prepare for was other people being generally nice to her and trying to help out a person who was clearly not at the top of her game. This was not her usual experience with strangers and it confounded her greatly. Just the thought of Martha brought a tiny smile to her face.

And then there was Ethan, the man who set off all sorts of alarms in her head, mostly because he was good looking, charming, and he clearly had flirted with her. Hannah could still remember the pretty boys of her college years, the ones who chased after every skirt in sight, and how they would attempt to get into her pants for a lark. Was this the case as well? Or was she so out of the loop, having been monogamous for so long, that she could not recognize a genuine interest for what it was? She also had to consider differences in culture between herself and the people of Thedas, and how things were done around here. And would she really be against getting to know an attractive man, or if she--

A large tome landed on the table in front of Hannah as Adan walked by in a rush. 

“Can you find the recipe for the regeneration potion? I need to check on the lyrium.”

Hannah’s heart jumped into her throat as she clutched at her chest and felt the pounding beat rattle against her ribcage. All previous thought momentarily wiped from her mind, she turned to Adan with a glare. 

“Did you _have to_ slam it in front of me? You scared the crap out of me!”

He paused at the doorway and gave her a deadpan look.

“I called your name three times and you didn’t respond,” he pointed out. “I figured I needed to use more direct methods.”

She rolled her eyes with enough emphasis to make a point.

“Fine, whatever,” she griped. “What potion did you need?”

“Regeneration.”

The book that sat on the table was rather hefty, leather-bound, and bore multiple marks of use and abuse. She pulled it closer to her and opened to the first page, looking for the index. There was none that she could find, mostly because it wasn’t a proper book that she was used to - from a printing press, neat as you please - but a handwritten one. To top it off, it was in a language she did not recognize; something between runic language of the Scandinavia, the Cyrillic of the Eastern Europe, and weird squiggles she associated with fake alien languages used on TV. Did Adan try giving her Dwarven script or something? Why?

“Hey, Adan?” she called out towards the adjoining room. “I think you gave me a book in the wrong language.”

A series of incoherent grumbles reached her ears and his head popped around the door frame.

“That is our standard potions book. In Common,” he said, as if explaining it to a slow child. “Are you sure you can read? I thought you we able, since you mentioned it before…”

Hannah frowned and leafed through the rest of the pages. They had rows of writing in varying degrees of tidiness, but she still didn’t recognize the letters. Some of them seemed familiar because of her Russian best friend, but she could not recall any specifically. When she was certain she couldn’t read any of it, she slammed the book closed, and felt the familiar feeling of panic close around her chest. 

She sensed more than saw Adan approach her side.

“I can’t read it,” she told him, her voice tight. “I can’t read it at all...”

How the _fuck_ was she going to find and gather all the information she needed in order to leave this god-forsaken bullshitville if she couldn’t fucking read the common language of the land? The book sat in front of her, strange letters carefully carved into the cover, and mocked her inability to unlock the secrets within. The injustice of it burned through Hannah’s veins with immediate and terrible rage.

“Well, that’s disappointing,” Adan commented, as cool as a cucumber, clearly not reading her mood change. “I had hoped to cut down on time, but illiteracy isn’t all that uncommon among the Thedas folk. We can still work out a way for you to--”

“NO!” she screamed and jumped to her feet, knocking down the chair. Panic, anger, and fear coursed through her, making her see red. “I am not some uneducated peasant to just sit here and knit while everything happens without me. I _have to_ know how to read Common. I have to learn this language!”

Adan’s tentative hand reached for her arm and it took all of her remaining self-awareness to not knock him back. She had not anticipated this obstacle and it could ruin any chances of her return home, if she didn’t rectify it immediately. With a firm grab at his hand, she shook him closer and pinned him with a steely gaze. His face scrunched in confusion and rising annoyance.

“Teach me to read and write,” she demanded. “Right now.”

As a million thoughts per minute raced through her head in a cacophony of internal sounds, Hannah watched, as if through haze, as Adan shook himself free of her grip and took a step back. He stared at her, face painted with disdain, as she heaved breath after breath into the empty space between them.

“No.”

The word, uttered with such finality, dropped out of his mouth like a stone. Hannah frowned.

“Wait. What? Why?” she asked. She took a step forward, but Adan moved with her, keeping his distance. “You have to!”

The glare that he shot her would have killed a lesser man and the snarl that curled his mustachioed lips spoke of contempt and dislike.

“I don’t have to do anything,” he announced and folded his hands against his chest. “I have more work than I can handle alone and trying to accommodate you has already taken up a lot of my precious time.”

His words brought her up short. Hannah stood there, rooted in place, and stared, as Adan raised his eyebrows like it should mean something to her. The fact that he was refusing to help her in such a simple thing boggled her mind.

“Precious time?” she asked, her voice cracking with shrill disbelief. “From what I know, you just stand here all day long and glare at whoever steps inside!”

A sharp slapping sound echoed through the room and a stinging pain bloomed against Hannah’s right cheek. Her hand automatically grabbed the warm spot on her face and she stared at Adan, completely lost for words. For his part, Adan stood in front of her, his chest heaving, and for the first time since she had met him, he looked properly angry.

“How _dare_ you say that! To me?” he finally strained through his teeth. “I am the only apothecary in this Maker-forsaken town and if I don’t produce enough potions, _people will die_! Do you not understand death? Did you not see enough of it in the three days you spent at my side?”

The more enraged he was getting, the more Hannah realized just what kind of a monumental mistake she had made through her words and careless behavior. She now understood just how much she had minimized Adan’s contribution to his community in one tiny sentence. She tried to say something in her defense, apologize maybe, but he would not be interrupted.

“You think yourself above everyone else, you prideful creature! You think peasants can only knit and darn and plow their fields? We are more than that! We are the reason why this village hasn’t collapsed to ruin yet. We are the reason why the soldiers have hot meals to fortify them and elfroot to heal them. And _we_ take care of the collective, not just the individual,” he spat the word out like it was a curse. “Why should I help _you_ when there is a woman in labor _right now_ and the only midwife we had was eaten by a stray demon? Why should I worry about _your_ problems when I have a village needing my help?” he kept rattling off with an ever increasing volume. “WHY ARE _YOU_ MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE ENTIRE INQUISITION?”

Adan’s face, normally pale and bland, was twisted into a snarl and red with exertion. For all of the questions he had thrown at her feet, she was completely unable to come up with a single reply. Her mouth opened and closed several times, possibly making her look like a fish, but no words came out. After all, how did one respond to _that_?

All of the emotions, all of the thoughts and feelings she had been trying really hard to compartmentalize and file away for later, they all came back in one fell swoop. Added to it where the guilt and remorse that Adan was so kind to remind her of, mixing, roiling, bubbling to the surface of her consciousness. Her breath came in quicker bursts now, shallow, broken, and she reached for the nearby edge of the table for support. She desperately needed to sit down, but the moment she stepped back and lowered her body, she found no support and landed squarely onto the floor - the chair laid on the ground next to her, having been knocked over during her earlier tantrum.

And it _had_ been a tantrum, Hannah realized that now. For all the harsh words and a spiteful tone, Adan had been right to take her down a peg, even if it stung. She wasn’t the Inquisitor to make other people listen to her and do her bidding, and she couldn’t reveal her knowledge of the future to the Inquisition top brass. There was nothing special about her to make anybody go out of their way to accommodate her needs and her demand for it was incredibly selfish. She was a nobody and if she wanted to achieve anything, she’d have to work really hard for it. Again.

The stone floor felt harsh against her behind, but Hannah didn’t even notice; she curled around her knees and hid her face in her arms. Tears burned at the edge of her eyelids, but she no longer cared if anybody saw her cry. The realization that she’d have to start at the bottom of the wrung, and with no friends or family to support her, felt like an icy dagger into her already struggling heart. There would be no pats on the back for a job well done, no parents to embarrass her in front of strangers, no best friend to go for drinks with after a particularly tough test. Thedas had looked like an inhospitable world back when she played it in a video game; planning to navigate it in real life felt like a job beyond her will.

Hannah continued to sob into her knees, arms wrapped tightly around her head, completely removed from happenings around her. Through a fog of her tears, she knew the chair had been picked up and set to rights, and maybe Adan moved away to check on his potions, but in the end, it mattered little. She finally understood her new truth: she was alone.

Gentle hands touched her arms after what felt like an eternity of grief and she instinctively shrunk away. She wasn’t worthy of a human connection, she did not deserve it! Still, this person insisted and she soon found her face cradled in the palms of a man who she thought hated her.

“Come on,” Adan said quietly. “You need to get off the floor or you’ll catch a cold.”

Bewildered, she stared at him through bleary eyes.

“What do _you_ care?” she asked, her voice raw from crying. “You’ve made it clear you think I’m a selfish piece of shit.”

As her sight cleared, she watched Adan roll his eyes and tug at her arm more insistently.

“Most of humanity is made of selfish pieces of shit,” he quipped. “You’re not any worse than they are.”

The off-handed comment made Hannah squint. She huffed a weak snort. “Please, tell me more about how ordinary I am. You haven’t made your point yet.”

She was antagonizing him with her sarcasm again, she knew it, but her traitor mouth would not stop saying inflammatory crap. Her situation would never improve if her relationship with Adan didn’t change from posturing to something… amenable. They were both intelligent, educated people, right? _Make friends with the locals, Hannah!_ she reminded herself. _They are your reality for as long as you’re in Thedas. Remember? Make an effort and be charming!_

Effort. That was the problem, wasn’t it? She had worked really hard to set up her life so that she could focus on very specific goals and not have to worry about the minutiae. Had that made her lazy? By the looks of it - very. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally said after a long pause, and swiped at her cheeks, hoping to removing most of the tears. “I am having a hard time adjusting to how people interact here in comparison to how I had to behave when I was back home. I really mean no disrespect, I promise. I just… This is very hard for me.”

Adan squinted at her. 

“I daresay this is hard for all of us, Hannah,” he pointed out. “Ever since the announcement of the Inquisition, we all became a group of people from all walks of life, trying our best to survive and close that damned hole in the sky. Misunderstandings are bound to happen.”

Hannah inhaled slowly, trying to get her thoughts to coalesce. 

“And that’s the frustrating part,” she said finally. “I can’t read Common so I can’t learn about the culture or history here; I can’t help research how to close that Breach, either. I used to be really good at it back in school, you know; stick me in a library and I’ll find all sorts of stuff.” 

He gave her an appraising look.

“Out of curiosity, what kind of schooling do you have?” he asked.

“University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign,” she replied with a shrug. “I managed to score several scholarships so I basically went for free.” Upon noticing Adan’s blank stare, she clarified. “Outside of the standard twelve years of education every child gets where I’m from, I’ve completed six years of coursework in civil engineering. Does that explain things?”

Adan nodded slowly. “Yes, it does.”

They stared at each other then, somber and uncertain. Hannah had a profound feeling Adan was making another decision in regards to her and hoped it would be favorable. If there had been a clock, she was certain she would hear the insistent ticking to mark the passage of time. Thankfully, it didn’t take long before he sighed deeply and stood upright. He reached down and helped her up as well.

“I think I understand why it upset you so much to not be able to read,” he finally announced and glanced off to the side. “I apologize for what I said in anger. I should not have hit you; that was uncalled for.”

His fingers were still wrapped around her wrist so Hannah twisted the grip and squeezed their hands together.

“I’ll live,” she announced and let go of him. “Perhaps that was the shock I needed to jump-start my systems.”

Adan blinked a few times

“I’m going to pretend I understood what you meant by that,” he commented and Hannah giggled. She still felt tired and overwhelmed, but a quick laugh felt good for her soul. 

“So here’s what we’re going to do about your illiteracy,” Adan intoned and Hannah winced at the word. “I recall the Chantry holding lessons for the children before the Conclave. I don’t think that’s a priority for the Inquisition just yet so I’m sure their books will be available to use for a few days. I will get Gordon to fetch one and you can use it to learn to read.”

Hannah stared at Adan while a fresh wave of tears pressed against her swollen eyelids. She forcibly blinked them away.

“That’s incredibly generous of you,” she whispered.

He shrugged, clearly embarrassed by her emotional response. “It really isn’t. It’s in everybody’s best interest to have you back to full capacity so you can be a useful member of this community. Besides, he probably won’t be able to fetch the materials until the evening anyway.”

“That’s fine, I can wait,” Hannah said with an encouraging smile.

With most of their negative emotions cleared up an awkward kind of silence fell between them. Hannah felt exhausted after having cried her heart out, but it seems incredibly silly to go back to bed already - it wasn’t even’t midday yet! She had no other ideas either, so she folded her hands in front of her and cleared her throat.

“So… should I go about making that regeneration potion?” she asked.

The question pulled Adan out of his reverie and he frowned. It took him a brief moment of thought before he shook his head.

“No. It’s a lot more than distilling the essence of elfroot. On top of it all, I’m already behind on my tasks and I can’t waste even more time teaching you the formula,” he said quickly. “Have you ever collected elfroot?”

Hannah tried really hard - and failed - to not snort at Adan’s inquiry. She covered it up with a little cough, though she was certain an amused spark still played in her eyes.

“You could say I have, in a way,” she replied. “That being said, I would need to look at an example of it in real life, instead of a picture.”

Adan nodded and left the room for a moment. He came back holding a thick, leafy plant that smelled of something soothing and familiar .

“This is what elfroot looks like. It will grow on just about any terrain since it’s technically a weed. I have been running low for days because the demon attacks depleted my reserves and I haven’t been able to go out to collect more,” he explain. “Do you think you can harvest some? You wouldn’t have to go far. They grow in spades just outside of the village walls. I’m pretty sure there’s a large patch right behind the apostate’s hut.”

Hannah did her best not to react to the mention of Solas - there would be no other apostate within Haven’s walls at this time. Instead, she picked up the plant from Adan’s hands, turned it around a few times, and gave it back.

“No worries, I’ve got this,” she announced. “Let me get dressed and I’ll be on my way.”

Adan actually smiled under his prodigious mustache and beard, and reached out to touch her forearm, briefly halting her movement.

“Thank you,” he said before letting go. “I may not be able to say it well, but it means a lot to me, that you’re helping.”

Hannah raised her eyebrows, completely surprised by his borderline effusive gratitude. She gave him a quiet smile that quickly turned into something mischievous. 

“Be careful. I might think you actually care,” she commented.

His parting smirk told her everything she needed to know.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Any and all comments and/or kudos are encouraged and appreciated! I am absolutely open to chatting about all things Dragon Age, as well as the crazy things I write, so you can always stop by my [Tumblr](https://kagetsukai.tumblr.com/). I swear I live there.


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